


Requesting Back-Up

by thelittlestpurplecat



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky, Bucky is a little shit, Cop AU, Delinquent Bucky, Dom/sub Undertones, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, Flirting, Grinding, Handcuffs, Kissing, M/M, Neck Kissing, Nipple Play, Police Officer AU, Police officer Steve, Resolved Sexual Tension, Riding, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Rutting, Sexual Tension, Top Steve, Underage Drinking, Vandalism, fucking over a desk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-05 15:03:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3124577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlestpurplecat/pseuds/thelittlestpurplecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seemed routine enough. Bucky, a delinquent, vandal, and temporary prisoner, was stuck in the police station's holding cell over night. Officer Steve Rogers was keeping an eye on him. It was simple right up until the moment Bucky started flirting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Couldn't Just be Simple

_Shit_

This _wasn’t_ what was supposed to happen. 

Bucky drew closer in on himself, his teeth set so hard that they ground painfully together. One second, everything had been fine. The image he’d been spray painting on the side of the building had been almost finished. It was a masterpiece. And then, before he could hardily look up, there’d been a cop leaning over him. He’d been stuffed into a cruiser like a piece of baggage and deposited in this miserable little cube of a holding cell. The only thing in the little box of bars, besides himself was a cot. Just that. Out of pure spite, Bucky had crouched himself on the floor. The wall behind him was made up of gray, non-personal blocks of concrete. Surrounding him about nine feet out was the rest of his prison, an unforgiving box of metal bars.

Bucky’s brow furrowed into a bitter glare and he gave a little hiss of frustration, thunking his head back against the concrete wall. Apparently, vandalism was only fun if you didn’t get caught. How long was he gonna be stuck in this dive? Come to think of it, what were the chances of anyone at home ever realizing he was gone? Or caring?

The brunet tipped his chin down again, the back of his skull smarting. He made a mental note to add ‘hitting your head off concrete walls’ to his list of ‘stupid shit I’ve done today.’ He stared bitterly out of the confines of his personalized prison. Beyond the solid iron bars, Bucky could see an unremarkable room containing a desk, filling cabinet, and an office chair. Thankfully, the little room was temporarily vacant. Bucky wasn’t much in the mood for company.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Just outside, Officer Steve Rogers riffled through the small stack of papers in his hand. The man’s tongue slid out, wetting his lips as he read over the file. For the most part, this was fairly routine. Someone had been caught graffitiing a building and they’d been brought in. They’d be held until their paperwork was processed, most likely until morning, and then they’d be released, pending a court date. Chances were they’d be stuck with a fine; really, just a slap on the wrist, but the process had to be completed nonetheless.

Steve exhaled softly. Some kid probably. He’d dealt with cases like this before. Most of the time, it was just a cocky fourteen year old who though he could get away with anything. He reached up, rubbing the bridge of his nose, his face drawn with fatigue. It had been a long day, and now he was going to have to stay to keep an eye on the kid while he was here. It wasn’t high on Steve’s list of favored activities, but someone had to do it. Besides, there were a few cops working this joint that were sometimes less than gentle with the detainees. If it was a cocky kid acting out, he’d still rather he be handled gently. They needed to be corrected, not traumatized.

Tucking the file under his arm, Steve moved forward, and opened the door.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The rasp of the door being pushed open alerted Bucky to the entering officer, and a growl of frustration escaped him. It was like a little graffiti had angered the gods, and now they were sending every possible unpleasantry to torture him while he was stuck in this hell hole. The last thing Bucky wanted was endure the disapproving reproach of yet another cop. He’d had quite enough of that on the ride over. The officer who arrested him had been snide, and condescending, going on about wasted potential or some shit like that, and frankly, Bucky couldn’t care less. It wasn’t like he had a glowing future ahead of him anyways. 

Steve strolled into the room, crossing through the office area and drawing level with the bars of the holding cell. Glancing up, Steve had to do a mental double take. This certainly wasn’t a bratty fourteen year old, far from it in fact. He looked to be about twenty, and he was unapologetically gorgeous. The young man’s long, lithe body was slim, but unmistakable toned. He sat against the wall with one elbow resting on his propped knee, his fingers carding absently through his smooth, dark chestnut hair. The sheaves of the brunet hair were wild and unruly, sticking up at odd angles, most likely from being stuffed under the hood of his sweatshirt. He looked relaxed, and almost…bored. He looked like he could care less about where he was. His expression was akin to one you might see on a bored child at a particularly long winded family gathering. The young man’s face was turned down, but not so that Steve couldn’t make out his hooded eyes, and the absolutely sinful curve of his red lips. He was stunning, and in skinny jeans and a rumpled gray hoodie he formed the picture of disinterest and apathy.

The blond haired officer started, mentally chiding himself. He should, by no means, be seeing this man as anything other that a patron. He was here because he broke the law, and it was Steve’s job to process him, end of story. Stealing a quick glance down at the papers in his hand, Steve cleared his throat. “James Barnes.” He addressed him, calling the young man’s attention up from his sate of apparent indifference.

"Bucky," he snarled, put off by the sound of his birth name. It sounded weird and oddly formal, and no one had referenced him by it in years. Frankly, he was surprised his still recognized it. The brunet tipped his chin up defiantly, his gray eyes burning with scorn beneath his hooded lids. "The names Bu-" Bucky’s words died in his throat. He froze, stunned, blinking rapidly. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him. There was no way anyone could be that inhumanly gorgeous.

The officer on the other side of the bars had a jawline that looked like it had been chiseled out of pure marble. The contours of his face were accented by sharp cheekbones, and a long, straight nose. And his eyes, _god_ , his eyes…They were the most ridiculous shade of baby blue Bucky had ever seen. The officer’s gaze was piercing, but there was more there than just steely professionalism, Bucky was sure. Beneath the shell of his profession, he seemed almost…kind. 

The man had a physique that put a Greek statue to shame. His shoulders were broad, and muscular, and the navy blue uniform shirt he wore stretched flatteringly across his pectoral muscles. Even though the uniform loosened as his waist tapered to an obscenely narrow point, Bucky still acquired a sense of the hardened muscles down his abs and waist. God, if he’d just turn around. With a waist like that, Bucky was certain the gorgeous blond officer would have an ass that could give even a saint filthy dreams.

Suddenly faced with a brand new possibility, Bucky’s hostile expression eased, a faint smirk playing at the teasingly curled corners of his mouth. Maybe, just maybe, this day didn’t have to be a total loss. Bucky was pretty and he knew it. Fortunately, he also knew how to exploit it. He had no illusions of being able to sweet talk the officer into letting him off the hook, but there was a chance he could at least have some fun while he was stuck in this dump. To be perfectly honest, Bucky could imagine himself kissing the officer’s soft pink lips. He could imagine that _quite_ vividly.

The officer was watching him now, waiting expectantly. Bucky ducked his head, his lips curling into a smirk as he shifted, pushing himself off the concrete floor. He had to do this right. He had all night, and moving too quickly might actually push the officer away from him. Bucky strolled forward, his movements controlled, and confident. He drew to a stop in from of the officer, hands in his pockets, chin tipped coyly back. “Yes Sir?” He asked, studying the man with curious interest.

Steve paused, caught off guard by how deep the young man’s voice was. It sounded mature, almost adult. But that was none of his concern. Steve moved forward, sliding the papers and a pencil through the bars. “Fill these out for me.” He instructed, before his professionalism softened, and he offered the young man a small smile. “The sooner we get this paperwork handled, the sooner you can go home, James.”

This time, Bucky didn’t grimace at the name, also everything in him wanted too. Instead, he eased in closer, his gaze dragging slowly up the blond’s muscular torso. “Call me Bucky,” he drawled, freeing the papers and pencil from Steve’s hand. The young man’s gaze dropped to the glinting gold nameplate on his left lapel. “ _Officer_ Rogers.” He finished, his tongue poking out distractingly to wet his flushed red lips.

Steve hesitated a moment as Bucky took the papers, his gaze dropping to the young man’s mouth. And the second his gaze lighted on those sinful red lip, Bucky turned away. Steve drew in a sharp breath through his nose, blinking rapidly. So the guy was pretty, he was still here for the same reason anyone else came through these door. He’d broken the law, and it was Steve’s job to handle it.

Wordlessly, Steve turned away, making his way back over to the desk. It was going to be a long night.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Aren’t you getting bored out there?”

Steve’s pen stilled on the page, the spot of ink slowly spreading as he continued to place pressure on the nib. Slowly, he lifted the pen, a patient little smirk touching his lips. He glanced up from his paperwork, meeting the detainee’s gaze. Bucky had returned the paperwork hours ago, and had now pressed himself against the bars; face nestled between them. His sleepy, hooded gray eyes were fixed on him, looking…oddly predatory.

"Aren’t you getting bored in there?" Steve retorted with a smug smile. It was a bit of a cheep shot. There was nothing in the cell to entertain him, but it was almost late and Steve really just wished the little delinquent would go to sleep so he could catch a little shuteye.

Bucky’s lips formed a subtle pout, his gaze dropping. “That’s low…” He grumbled, before lifting his eyes to Steve once more. “If you’re bored you could actually come over and talk to me.” Bucky muttered sulkily, feeling neglected in his boring little cell.

An amused smile tugged at the corners of Steve’s mouth and he looked up, to meet his gaze. “I have work. You should sleep.” Steve recommended.

"Not tired." Bucky countered. "Talk to me."

Steve closed his eyes, a little huff escaping his lips. Reluctantly, he slid his paperwork aside, pushing himself to his feet and strolling over to the holding cell. He looked down, meeting the younger man’s gaze evenly. “Well?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky’s smirk widened victoriously, a glint of mischievous flickering in his eyes. He tipped his face up, but his smile faded as he took on a look of seriousness. Uncertainty suddenly coiled in the pit of Steve’s stomach as he stared down at him. He may be a technical adult, but with that serious, almost nervous expression written across his expression, he suddenly looked very young. The brunet wet his mouth nervously, his gaze stealing to the side before refixing on Steve, staring at him earnestly. “What’s gonna happen to a pretty guy like me in prison?”

Steve drew back, his expression softening with pity. He looked so…scared. God, he’d probably heard all kinds of horror stories. The officer opened his mouth hesitantly, but suddenly Bucky’s expression phased back to a grin and Steve could have kicked himself. Of course he’d been teasing. Steve crushed out the flush of pity in his chest, his expression twinging with annoyance. “You’re not gonna go to jail.” Steve scoffed, scowling at the brunet grinning at him from through the bars. “You’ll get a fine, or community service, maybe scrubbing your art off the side of the Stark Building.”

"I know," The young man smirked. "I’m just pullin’ yer leg." Bucky rested his weight against the bars, his slim fingers wrapping around the cool iron. Once again, the young man tipped up his chin, looking genuinely curious now. "You got a first name officer?" He purred. "I mean, I could keep calling you Officer Rogers, but lets face it, we’re gonna be here all night. Lets get to know each other hmm?"

Steve faltered slightly, blinking in surprise as realization hit him like a truck. This kid was flirting with him! No, not kid, Steve had to remind himself, Bucky was an adult, an immature adult, but an adult. Still, the look that simmered just below the surface of the younger man’s expression was all too obvious. Bucky, delinquent, vandal, and temporary prisoner, was flirting with him. Steve exhaled softly, easing back a bit to control the space between them. At least he had that in his favor. Finally, a wry smirk pulled at the blond’s lips. “It’s Steve.” He said simply, deciding it was no use withholding his first name. There was no point; and, despite himself, Steve felt a flush of warmth as Bucky’s face lit up.

"Steve." He repeated, smiling up at him. God he had a dazzling smile. 

"Well, in case you’re still gonna try and call me James, don’t bother. Bucky’s fine."

The wry smirk lingering on Steve’s lips softened. “Bucky huh?” He pressed, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

The younger man shrugged. “Always stuck better then James.” He admitted honestly, suddenly feeling strangly eager to trust the man. He seemed like the kind of person you could trust, and although Bucky was reluctant to give his trust easily, something in him told him that Steve deserved it. The brunet inhaled deeply, stepping back away from the bars. “So, y’wanna come in? Plenty of room.” Bucky tempted, gesturing grandly to his quarters. “One personalized cot, what more could y’want? Chamber pot? Stale bread and water? I’m sure you’ve got all the goodies here.”

Steve snickered at the younger man’s barbed sarcasm. “Y’know, I think I’ll suffer out here, tempting though, very tempting.”

Bucky smirked, easing towards the bars again. “Really?” He pressed, leaning against the bars again.

"Oh sure," Steve scoffed. "You’ve got all the luxuries. All’s out here is a…cushy office chair…coffee maker…"

Bucky’s head snapped up, his ulterior motive suddenly forgotten. “You’ve got a coffee maker?” He demanded, leaning into the bars, pressing his face between them.

Steve passed a hand over his mouth, trying not to snicker at the suddenly needy expression on the other man’s face. “Uh, yeah.” He responded and Bucky gave a desperate whine. At the sound, Steve’s resolve crumbled. “Do you want a cup?” He asked, his expression softening.

Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed, his expression going slack with relief. “ _God_ yes…” He breathed, practically slumping against the bars.

"I’ll be back." Steve said feeling a tug of affection in his chest. Bucky wasn’t a bad guy, he was dumb as hell for thinking he could get away with what he did, but he wasn’t a bad guy.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Steve returned to the holding area a few minutes later, a cup of coffee in hand. The second he entered the room, Bucky’s head snapped up. He had settled down on the cot while he waited, but the moment the coffee was in sight, had lunged to his feet, his left he and reaching through the bars. “Thank you.” He breathed shortly, almost a prayer as he received the cup.

The sight of his pleasure sent a warm flutter through Steve’s body that he tried very hard to ignore. “No problem,” he said dismissively, feeling the cup pass from his fingers. The man’s eyes followed him curiously as Bucky cupped his hands around the Styrofoam cup, breathing in the rich earthy smell. Steve paused, the brunet’s left hand drawing his attention. “You’ve got quite the ink job there…” Steve commented offhandedly, studying the tattoo that covered Bucky’s entire hand. It was done up in lines of sliver, black and white, mimicking the appearance of gleaming metal almost perfectly.

Bucky glanced down distractedly. “Oh,” he murmured. “Yeah. It actually goes all the way up if y’wanna see.”

"I don’t thi-" Steve started, but Bucky had already set his coffee on the concrete floor. On one practiced, fluid movement, Bucky grabbed the hem of his hoodie and of the t-shirt under it and pulled both expertly over his head. Tossing his mussed hair out of his eyes, Bucky dropped the layers to the floor.

Steve could swear his jaw had hit the floor right alongside Bucky’s clothing. He’d gotten a sense that he was toned, but _holy fuck._ The younger man’s body was cut, trimmed perfectly to flatter his lean physique. He wasn’t bulky, _hell no_ , there was nothing _bulky_ about him, but every line of his body was hardened muscle. The tattoo did indeed go all the way up to the cap of his shoulder, and if Steve hadn’t known that it was skillfully done ink he would have mistaken his arm for actual metal. It was all tones of gray, silvers, blacks, and whites, all except for a blood red star etched high on his bicep. There was something decidedly alluring about the tattoo, Steve hated to seem cliché but it was actually devastatingly sexy, and the tattoo wasn’t the only thing. He had neatly defined pectoral muscles, and six ridges that formed the tightened core of his abs. A distinct ‘v’ of muscles started above his hipbones, disappearing into the waistband of his skinny jeans. A trail of soft brown hairs, starting just below his navel drew Steve’s eyes instinctively downward, following the lines further down his waist. And before he could register that he was gapping, Steve felt cold fingers curl into his belt.

Bucky slid forward with a distractingly sinuous shift of his hips, and in a moment, had taken hold of Steve’s belt buckle, drawing the man against the bars of his cell. He pressed forward, feeling Steve’s chest, hot, and firm against his own even through the intrusive bars. “See something you like officer?” He breathed, tipping his face up to stare at him sleepily from under his thick dark eyelashes. Cherry red lips were suddenly glossy with moisture as Bucky wet them with a suggestive touch of his tongue. “My offer still stands,” He purred, grinding his hips forward, a smirk curling at his mouth as he felt a twitch of interest in the front of Steve’s neat black slacks. “Y’can join me if y’like…If you’re worried about me gettin’ away…I’d be happy to let you cuff me to the cot…”

" _Fuck_ -" Steve gasped shortly, before suddenly snapping out of his daze. He startled, wrenching away for Bucky instinctively and stepping back a pace. "Fuck. No. No!" He snapped, color rising in his cheeks. This guy was trying to twist him around his finger and Steve couldn’t allow that. The blond set his jaw, internally cursing himself for spacing out like that, or for even _thinking_ of his prisoner as a sexual being in the first place. He was his duty, _not_ on the job entertainment.

Steve turned back to face him, his jaw set angrily. “Lay down, go to sleep.” He snapped, stalking back over to his desk.

Bucky’s expression flickered with annoyance as he was suddenly deprived the warmth of Steve’s muscular body. Still, it wasn’t long before his infuriating smirk had reclaimed its position on his lips. “Y’know, it’s kind hot when you order me around like that, officer.” He drawled, watching Steve’s shoulder’s stiffen from where he stood, braced against his desk. “But if yer askin’ me to lay down-“

"Just- shut up." Steve implored, turning back and giving the lock a feverish tug, half afraid that somehow, in all the confusion, Bucky had somehow gotten it undone. But the lock jerked stubbornly against his grip and Steve exhaled his relief. "Just…go to sleep." He pressed, his voice loosing its edge as he made a placating gesture in Bucky’s direction. "Just…stay there…"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Fuck-" Steve hissed, finding himself braced up against the bathroom sink, his cock straining painfully against his zipper, images of his prisoner’s sinfully muscular body still haunting his mind. God this was so messed up. He never should have let that happen, gotten that close, stood there that long. He’d only encouraged him, and now he was going to be up all night while Bucky flirted with him from within his cell. And the worst part was, from the way Steve had reacted to Bucky’s little scene back there, the bars would be as much to keep him off of Bucky as they were to keep Bucky off of him.

He had to get this under control.

Steve huffed a sigh, running the tap as cold as it would go before splashing it over his face. What he really wanted was a cold shower. Images of Bucky’s muscular body, his painfully gorgeous torso, and that stunning tattoo kept swimming through his mind. Steve found himself trying to shake the urge to do exactly what Bucky asked; handcuff him to the cot and get to know him a bit better.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t because Steve was an officer, and Bucky was a prisoner. That’s just how it was. At least until tomorrow morning.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Steve stepped back into the office for the third time that night, running his fingers through his slightly damp hair. He wasn’t even going to look at him. He couldn’t get a rise out of him if he wasn’t even looking. Obstinately, Steve settled into his chair and bent over his paperwork, his eyes grown bleary. It must be nearing midnight now…

Despite his resolve, Steve felt a growing twist of unease in the pit of his stomach. The cell had gone very, _very_ quiet. He pulled himself abruptly to his feet, hurrying over to the cell, and freezing. His heart rate slowed with relief.

Bucky was reclining on the cot, half siting against the wall. One leg was draped casually over the side, the other propped up nearer his chest. He’d finished his formerly abandoned coffee and was now absently turning the Styrofoam cup over in his hands; quiet as a mouse. His eyelids lifted when Steve approached the cell, but he didn’t shift his position; only smiling faintly. If Steve didn’t know better he’d seem the picture of innocence. “Problem Steve?” He asked, calling him by his first name, rather than _officer_.

Steve buffered for a moment before giving a little shake of his head. “No- just, though something was wrong. You’re awfully quiet.”

"You prefer me making noise?"

"It’s less suspicious."

"C’mon in and I can make all the noises you like."

And there it was. Steve scowled, watching Bucky’s face phase into a grin. “You’re a real pain you know that?” He asked, rubbing his brow.

Bucky shrugged, tossing his cup through the bars, sending it clattering faintly on the other side. “I know.” He responded, suddenly finding himself trying to choke back a yawn. “But lucky you, I might be feeling tired enough to actually fall asleep on this rock slab you call a cot.”

Steve allowed himself a tiny smile. “Holding cells aren’t built for comfort.” He reminded him gently, and the younger man granted him a derisive snort. Steve breathed a small sigh, clicking off the light near the cell so that the room was illuminated only by the lamp in the corner of his office. “Go to sleep Bucky.” He said quietly, walking back to his desk, and reading over his paperwork until his chin dropped against his chest.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

At 5:45 AM on the dot, Steve’s watch chirped, stirring him from his light sleep. His neck was stiff from dosing in the chair and Steve couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to going home and getting a few solid hours of sleep. Unfortunately, that was feeling an awful lot like the distant future. For the next hour or so, he busied himself with still more of the seemingly endless paperwork, before caving around seven to get himself a second cup of coffee.

Mercifully, around 8:30 in the morning, one of Steve’s coworkers dropped off James Barnes finalized paperwork. Steve breathed a relieved sigh, pushing himself out of his chair as he studied the documents. Everything was in order. A date had been set to see through Bucky’s final sanction, but until then, he was free to go.

Steve made his way over to the holding cell, peering in curiously. Bucky was asleep on the cot. Sometime during the night, he’d pulled his t-shirt and hoodie back on, and was now laying, curled in on himself with his face tucked into the hood. He was…kind of pretty when he was asleep…His expression had gone soft, lacking the bitter, sarcastic edge that it usually held. His flushed red lips were parted ever so slightly, and his gorgeous chestnut hair feathered softly across his cheekbones.

Steve’s professionalism weakened as he stared down at the other man, drinking in the sight. He really was beautiful. Suddenly, the blond officer inhaled sharply, shaking himself back to reality. He couldn’t. He couldn’t let his resolve slip like that. Bucky had just been being a tease yesterday anyways. He wanted a little fun, that was all. Steve couldn’t let himself start actually feeling _affection_ for him. It could only end badly. Swallowing back the strangely warm sensation in the pit of his stomach, Steve reached out, gently rapping his knuckles on the concrete wall. “Bucky.” He called softly and the smaller man jolted in his sleep.

He blinked rapidly, and struggled into a sitting position, looking lost, and confused. He was shocked, and bleary eyed, sleep lines from his hoodie tracing lines into the side of his cheek. “What-” he started shortly, blinking to try and clear his vision.

"Hey," Steve said gently. He could imagine waking up in an unfamiliar cell was unnerving until you got your bearings. "Hey, it’s okay Bucky, it’s Steve."

Another moment passed before realization slowly dawned in Bucky’s bleary eyes, and the panic lost it’s edge. “Steve…” Bucky murmured sluggishly. “How could I forget?”

Steve suppressed a smirk. Bucky might be slow to rise, but his sarcasm was always on point. “Morning.” He greeted him, watching as the other man stretched, a huge yawn causing his jaw to pop uncomfortably loudly. “You’re paperwork came through already.”

Bucky blinked, dragging his aching body off of his firm resting place. “Good, cause I think I’d probably get arthritis from sleeping on that cot one more night.” He said, scrubbing the last traces of sleep from his eyes.

Steve smiled faintly in response, fishing the holding cells key out of his pocket. “Well, You’re off the hook now. At least, until the 8th of July.” Steve finished pulling the reluctant door back with a grating scrape, letting Bucky stroll out into the office. He glanced around, looking mildly interested as he peered around the room. “Here,” Steve said, pulling the top page off of his stack of documents. “This should have all the details you need about your meeting with the magistrate on the 8th. You’d do yourself a favor to show up on time.”

"Sure, I mean, when have I ever been known to cause trouble?"

Steve shot him a look, watching the brunet’s grin spread under his disapproving glare. He huffed a sigh, dropping the rest of the stack of papers on his desk. “You can pick up your personal affects at the front desk; last left at the end of the hall should drop you right out front.”

Bucky nodded absently before moving forward, so slowly, so distractingly that Steve didn’t even think to step back. He came to a stop directly in front of the other man, his chest touching lightly against his. “Well Steve,” he purred, tipping his face so close that Steve could almost feel his hot breath on his mouth. “It’s been fun.”

Steve stared, embarrassingly frozen as Bucky smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt before reaching up to curl the inked fingers of his left hand into Steve’s collar. Bucky never broke eye contact as he pulled him down to eye level, his mouth just ghosting against Steve’s. At the almost kiss, Steve felt warmth crackle down his spine, his will melting before Bucky suddenly released his collar and slipped away, out the office door before Steve could fully process what had just happened. 

The door at the end of the hall clicked, signaling Bucky’s departure and Steve continued to stand in the middle of the office, frozen, stunned. His head was spinning, his mouth burning from the almost contact. It had left him reeling, feeling simultaneously guilty, and desperate for more. There was something about him, something about Bucky Barnes that made him addictive. There was something about him that left officer Steve Roger’s absently touching his lips for the rest of the day, and imagining what had _almost_ happened long into the night. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm planning on continuing this story for several chapters, but my thoughts for the plot are pretty loose at the moment, and I'm open to any thoughts or suggestions you guys have.
> 
> Leave a note if you want, I'd love to hear your ideas.


	2. Is Coffee Too Much to Ask?

It had been three weeks since Bucky had spent the night in the police stations holding cell. Three weeks since he’d somehow managed to work himself into Steve’s every thought; images of him pressed against the bars, pressed against him plaguing him. For three weeks Bucky had been haunting his imagination like a ghost, and yet, it had only been two days since Steve had seen him last.

Two days ago, Steve had spotted Bucky hovering suspiciously near the site of his first, or at least, most recent crime, a canvas duffle full of spray paints slung over his shoulder. Since Bucky hadn’t technically done anything yet, Steve merely held him up, and gave him a serious recommendation _not_ to go back and try to finish his piece. Bucky had nodded, fainting surprise, and with a few purred _‘yes sir, officer_ ’s, had slipped off.

Three days before the spray paint incident, Steve had had to give him a ticket when he found his car parked almost half way over the middle of the sidewalk.

A mere eight hours before that, Steve had stopped him for dumping the leftover trash from a fast food meal on a park bench.

And now, Bucky stood, loitering on the corner, a cigarette hanging between his lips. He was wearing a pair of distressed gray jeans that fit him flatteringly, accenting the sinuous curves of his muscular thighs and calves. A jean jacket covered his arms, layered over a gray flannel and an even darker t-shirt. Hanging off his right arm was a grocery bag, containing a bottle of liquor that he was too young to be in possession of. Steve sighed, dropping his forehead against the steering wheel of his cruiser. This was getting out of hand.

The vehicular slowed to a crawl and Steve parked neatly along the curb. Bucky had seen him; Steve could make out his suppressed grin even from where he sat. He looked smug, and confident, like getting stopped by an officer for the umpteenth time was _exactly_ what he wanted. Steve disengaged the engine of his cruiser before popping open the door and slipping out into the sun. He walked over to where Bucky was leaned, his expression settling into a look of annoyance.

"Officer." Bucky murmured sleepily, nodding absently in his direction, letting a curl of pale smoke escape his lips.

"This is the fourth time this week…" Steve said tiredly, adamantly refusing to let himself get distracted by the way the tightly rolled cigarette hung against Bucky’s plush lower lip.

Bucky smirked, closing two fingers over the cig and drawing it slowly out from between his lips, breathing the smoke out of his lungs. His eyelids lowered, his thick lashes lightly kissing his skin. He stood there for a moment, silent, and unmoving. Slowly, Bucky replaced the cigarette between his lips and lifted his hooded eyes, staring at him sleepily. “Beginnin’ to think you’re stalking me officer…” He purred, shifting the cig in his mouth to draw Steve’s attention to his flushed lips.

Steve’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “ _I’m_ beginning to think you’re doing this on purpose.”

Bucky scoffed derisively, grounding out the ember at the end of the cigarette and tossing it casually to the side. “For what?” He scoffed, the corner of his mouth lifting sarcastically. “You think I’m acting out for- for your _attention_?”

"I didn’t say-"

"You’d be right," Bucky amended abruptly, dropping the derisive sneer, once again toying with him, stringing him along with a grin that put the sun to shame. "But I’d still be stung by your lack of faith."

Steve stopped, processing this little pearl of information. He’d begun to wonder if Bucky had been purposely acting out, and the thought _had_ crossed his mind that maybe it was directed for him, but he’d dismissed the notion as ridiculous. Steve had comforted himself in the safe assumption that Bucky probably flirted with most anyone he met. Steve guessed that he wasn’t special in that regard. So there had been a really probable chance that Bucky’s interest wouldn’t persist beyond one boring night in a cell, because really what else could it have been? Bucky had been on lock down; he was cranky, and bored and looking for a cheep thrill, and he’d chose Steve’s as it’s source. Why would he bother once he was free? He had a whole world full of people to flirt with. Why him?

“You-” Steve started uncertainly, now, not at all sure how to respond. His theory had been rocked, and the read he _thought_ he’d gotten on Bucky was proving to not be as accurate as he’d hoped. “Y- look…” He sighed. “Just… _stop_. Please stop before you get yourself seriously arrested.”

"For what?" Bucky asked again, pushing away from the wall in one sinuous motion. "For jaywalking? Stealing a pack of cigs?"

Steve’s eyes dropped to Bucky’s hip, his gaze catching on the square outline in his pocket. “Did you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky twisted his lips off to the side, giving a short shake if his head. “Nah.” He scoffed dismissively. “Y’wanna see the receipt?”

"No thanks. I’m good." Steve relented before looking up to meet Bucky’s gaze. "Look, point is, if you don’t get yourself arrested, you’ll rack up a fortune in fines and parking tickets. It’s not worth it." Steve said, allowing the tone of his voice to shift to…almost concern.

"Y’could have coffee with me."

Steve’s mind stopped cold, and his heart gave a little stutter in his chest. Why was he letting himself imagine that? A nice little café with a quiet atmosphere, hot cups of black coffee…Bucky watching him from across the table with that sleepy, flirtatious smile…he couldn’t deny he was curious about the younger man…he really knew very little about him, save for his name, his proclivity for trouble, and just how beautiful he really was. But besides that, James Barnes was one hazy question mark, and Steve was afraid if he tested the water with this one, he just might drown. The worst part was, he wasn’t so certain that he wasn’t in too deep already, and the notion scared him to death.

Steve swallowed back the anxiety that had begun to stir in the pit of his stomach, making his chest feel tight, and his head a little fuzzy. "I…don’t know if that’s a good idea…" Steve said finally, trying to reign in the nervousness he was feeling. Steve had struggled with anxiety most of his life, and a majority of the time he could manage it. But loosing control triggered a lot of unpleasant emotions, and getting Steve to loose control was something at which Bucky was extremely talented. Still, without the knowledge that his persistence was making Steve uncomfortable, Bucky wasn’t about to let himself be brushed off.

"What could it hurt?” He pressed, moving forward, half temped to grab hold of his belt that draw the taller man against his hips as he’d done the first night in the cell. He knew what it did to Steve; he knew how it froze his brain and got him to listen. But Bucky held off, not wanting to reinforce Steve’s point rather than his own. The brunet slid his tongue over his lips, exhaling softly. Look, _I’ll_ stop acting out, _you_ won’t have to deal with me being such a pain in the ass all the time, _and_ you’ll get a half decent cup of coffee out of it." Bucky continued temptingly, "I’ll even pay. One date’s all I’m askin’ for. I mean, c’mon, you’re allowed to see people outside work."

"Yeah but Bucky-" he scoffed, desperately scrambling for a good reason not to get in over his head here. Bucky was awfully close, it was distracting; it was- Steve was getting distracted, and he could feel his resolve weakening. He was grasping at straws, because he was seeing less and less of a problem with going out with Bucky. Steve stepped back suddenly, reestablishing the distance between them. "I- I’m a lot older than you."

This time, it was Bucky’s turn to scoff. The brunet snorted derisively, stepping forward to compensate for Steve’s movement in the reverse. “Yeah, by all of five years.” He said scornfully.

"I’m 26."

" _Six_ years," Bucky amended with a flippantly peeved gesture. "So what?" He exclaimed, closing the distance between them until he was within a foot of him, not touching, but close enough to be personal. "We’re _adults_." Bucky pressed, "We’re allowed to got out for coffee! Now, if I had come to you two or three years ago and said ‘hey, why don’t you take me back to your place and you can fuck me into the mattress’ _then_ you would have had a legitimate argument with the age, but I’m _twenty_ for gods sake, and all I’m askin’ for is a cup of coffee." Bucky finished with a huff, tossing his unruly bangs out of his face and drinking in Steve’s expression.

The officer had stopped, looking a little stunned by the edge in Bucky’s voice, but his face was flushed a dull pink. His words tumbled over in his brain, some of them trying to play themselves out in vivid detail. Like the first night they met, Steve found that Bucky had this way of rooting him to the spot, freezing his mind on one thing, and one thing only: him.

The brunet sighed faintly, a little smirk tugging at his mouth. “You’re still stuck on the ‘fucking me into your mattress’ comment aren’t you?” Bucky asked the gentle rib snapping Steve back to reality.

"No, I just-" he fumbled, trying to cram a lid on his imagination, it was running away with him, and that wasn’t a mistake Steve could afford to make. Unless…it didn’t _have_ to go that far, going out for coffee didn’t have to mean- No. Steve stopped himself suddenly, drawing in a deep breath before stiffening his resolve. Steve lifted his gaze to Bucky’s, meeting the younger man’s sleepy, expectant stare. "I can’t get into something like this right now." He said, his words firm, and honest. "I really can’t. I’m sorry."

Slowly Bucky’s cockiness seemed to trickle away, and Steve felt a jolt of pain in his chest. The smaller man’s expression had softened, his chin dropping. The brunet’s plush lips were parted, but he remained, for once, totally silent. If Steve wasn’t so sure Bucky was just flirting for kicks, he would have thought he looked genuinely hurt. As it was, Steve’s certainty was wavering. He got the feeling he could really like this guy if he let himself, which was exactly why he couldn’t. Still, the look of disappointment on Bucky’s face left his chest aching.

"I uh…guess I’ll be outta yer hair then." Bucky said simply, actually looking almost awkward, standing there, shuffling his weight from foot to foot. He slid his hands into his pocket, the bottle of liquor shifting slightly in the grocery bag still hanging on his wrist. “Oh…Here.” He said softly, extending the liquor out to him with his expression dropped. “Yer probably gonna wanna right me a ticket for this or somethin’…”

Steve managed an awkward smile, receiving the bag from Bucky’s extended hand. “Not worth it.” He said softly. “Easier to just pretend it never happened.” Easier to pretend Bucky wasn’t _really_ upset. Easier to just walk away before he did more damage. Steve pursed his lips, giving a tight little nod, his eyes dropped away. “Well…try and keep out of trouble?” He asked, finally dragging his eyes up off the payment to smile faintly at the younger man.

Bucky offered him a charitable smirk. “Don’t I always?” He jabbed, but the easy charisma had slipped from his tone.

To this, Steve couldn’t muster a reply. He just wanted to go, to leave and not have to see the look on Bucky’s face. He looked…oddly empty without all his confidence and bravado, and Steve had to face the fact that his rejection had stung. Still…it was for the best. Steve managed half-hearted nod, and turned away, the liquor bottle still hanging from his hand.

Bucky watched Steve go, the faint smirk he’d employed to ease the look of guilt on Steve’s face fading. When Steve slipped into the driver’s seat and peeled away from the curb, the smirk slipped away completely, leaving his expression flat, and cold. The young man rested his weight back against the brick wall with a muted thump, his gaze still following the cruiser’s progress until it was out of sight. Slowly, he tore his eyes away from the now empty road. With a pained sigh, Bucky withdrew another cigarette, lighting it up and placing it between his lips. The nicotine helped to settle his mind; it helped to numb the ragged sting of Steve’s dismissal. He hadn’t been able to admit it, even to himself, but the officer had been on his mind since their first meeting, and in the hot and bothered, needing to get his hands on his body kind of way either. He was still captivated by Steve’s physique, but more than that, Bucky’s mind kept looping back to how he’d treated him while he was still his prisoner. There had been no need for Steve to be kind, to talk with him, joke with him, get him coffee, put up with his flirting, yet he had. He’d done all of that, and there had been something easy about him, something that made Bucky want to be around him. For the past three weeks he’d been doing anything he could, trying to capture his attention, if even for a few minutes. He’d told himself it was worth it, that maybe, if he was good enough, interesting enough, Steve would want to stay. Bucky had done everything he could think to do, and in the end, Steve had turned him down anyways.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm planning on continuing this story for several chapters, but my thoughts for the plot are pretty loose at the moment, and I'm open to any thoughts or suggestions you guys have.
> 
> Leave a note if you want, I'd love to hear your ideas.


	3. Whiskey Mouths

His body hurt.

Steve heaved a sigh as he stepped back into the police station, his head throbbing, a spasm of pain occasionally shooting down his spine. He’d had to make a nasty arrest an hour ago. It had been a domestic abuse complaint, a bad boyfriend smacking around his girlfriend’s kid. Per the norm, Steve had tried to get the job done with as little force as possible, but the guy hadn’t planed on going down without a fight, and Steve was more comfortable engaging him in a dangerous and ultimately painful struggle than letting him get away with doing more damage to the woman and her kid. As it was, the assailant had only caved after a heated struggle, in which both men received a few nasty hits. His ribs were bruised, his head was throbbing, and something had been twisted in his back. Steve would need a long nights rest, and an appointment with a good chiropractor, but there had been no serious damage.

"Bad day?"

Steve glanced up, offering his coworker, Officer Romanov, a tired smile. She was resting her weight against the front desk, looking sharp, and dangerously professional in her navy blue uniform. Natasha was a friend, but he’d never cross her if he had any say in the matter. She was skilled, and talented, and defended her right to her position in a male-dominated field with an iron fist. Anyone who made the mistake of assume Natasha didn’t belong in the police force lived to regret it. Personally, Steve hoped to never be on her bad side. “Little worse than normal.” The blond officer admitted, closing the gap between them until he was within comfortable conversation distance.

"Tired?" She asked, in her direct, business like manner. She arched one, strong eyebrow studying his battered expression. Natasha could read most anyone like an open book, and Steve’s drawn face reflected his fatigue all too clearly.

"Yeah." He breathed with a snicker.

"Then you’re gonna hate this."

Steve’s heart dropped like a stone. Already, his hopes of a hot bath and an early bed slipping away from him like a half-remembered dream. The officer closed his eyes, grimacing painfully. “What?” He asked softly, knowing Natasha wasn’t a long-winded speaker. She liked direct questions, and gave direct answers.

The woman pushed away from the desk, absently pushing back a strand of her russet hair. “Chief Fury wants you to stay and keep an eye on cell block B tonight.”

"What are the charges?" Steve sighed, his skull throbbing painfully as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He last place he had wanted to spend tonight was slumped over in an office chair watching an unruly prisoner or two. He wanted to go home, eat his own cooking, sleep in his own bed, and let himself unwind. He wanted aspirin. But Steve didn’t always get what he wanted.

"Physical Assault. Destruction of property." Natasha said evenly, handing him a manila envelope filled with official reports. "Two drunks beating the crap out of each other outside a bar. No serious injuries, but there was minor property damage. The bar owner wants to sue."

Steve nodded impassively. He knew you couldn’t react to cases too much. If you poured your emotions into them, it would eventually kill you. It was better to stay distanced. Steve was finding that applied to most things in his life. “And the other guy?” He pressed, needing the details of what he was walking into.

"Barton’s keeping eyes on him. He’s a lot more violent, so they stuck him in block A where he wouldn’t tear your guy a new one." She said matter-of-factly, meeting her coworker’s gaze. Natasha watched as the exhaustion washed over Steve’s face, seeming to age him a hundred years. It was a rough job, and it wasn’t always the big things that broke you. Sometimes, you didn’t have to loose a partner, or a civilian. Sometimes you didn’t have to get shot. Sometimes, it was being awake for sixty hours straight, or find out a prisoner you though had been doing well in rehab relapsed. Sometimes, it was knowing you had to sleep in a stiff office chair, rather than a comfortable bed. It was a rough job, and it certainly took its toll on her friend Steve.

Natasha eased forward, tentatively resting a slim hand on Steve’s arm. “Hey,” she murmured, her husky alto soothing to Steve’s battered ears. “Straighten up Rogers. It’s just twelve hours, you’re off duty at nine.”

That was classic Natasha, She didn’t offer flowery words, or overly sentimental statements. Instead, she offered the fact, the good facts that could manage to put things in a better light. And somehow, it began to seem that twelve hours wouldn’t be so bad. Steve turned to her, the corners of his mouth lifting in an appreciative smile. “Right.” He breathed, trying to force the smile to feel a little more genuine. “Thanks Nat…”

The hand slipped from his arm as Natasha turned away, a faint smile etched on her lips. She’d done her piece, it was up to Steve to hold himself together from now on. “Take care Steve. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said quietly, glancing back to offer him one more supportive smile before turning away again. She lifted her chin as she shook of the weight of her job, shelved it until morning, and strolled out of the police station, her dress shoes clacking across the polished tiles.

Once Natasha had disappeared out the door, undoubtedly heading back to a warm, comfortable home, Steve let the little smile slip. He was really too tired to pretend to be cheerful if there was no one around but him. And to be honest, it wasn’t just today. He’d felt rotten for days…he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he’d started feeling like shit, but the feeling had been prevalent for some time now. He felt uneasy, sometimes even sick, like he’d made a huge mistake and couldn’t begin to make it right. He’d been more anxious than normal as well. Still, Steve had no choice in anything tonight. Like Natasha, he had to shelve his own feelings. If Chief Fury wanted him guarding cell block B, then he was going to be up all night guarding cell block B.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

With the manila envelop given to him by Nat still tucked under his arm, Steve pushed open the door to the small front office area in front of the cell. He would rather be anywhere else in the world. Still, he dropped the envelop on the desk with a muted _thump_ , walking over to the cell to get a read on his prisoner, and stopped cold.

"Bucky?"

The lanky brunet was slumped on the edge of the rough canvas cot, his head lowered, his body battered. Dark, chestnut hair hung over his pale, clammy forehead, clinging to the cold sweat glistening on his skin. Steve could make out crusty, red-brown blood around his nostrils and trickling down his upper lip. He could see discoloration on his cheekbones, and blood and sweat dried in his hair. The man’s clothing was rumpled, and torn in several placed, the collar of his t-shirt ripped away to reveal his heavily bruised collarbone. At the sound of his name, Bucky lurched drunkenly, his head lolling for a moment before he seemed to reign in a little control over his body. Slowly, he managed to lift his head, dim eyes liting on the officer’s broad figure.

"Steve?" He slurred, his voice cracked, as he reached up a hand, fumbling it through his hair. The cuffs around his wrists rattled quietly at the movement, and Steve’s gaze was drawn to the faint bruised under the metal rings. He must have been pulling on them. "Hey..Ss…Stevie…" The bloodied brunet moved to stand up, but his weakened legs betrayed him, and he sat back heavily, his head cracking painfully against the cement wall. A ragged cry was wrenched from Bucky’s lips and he dropped forward again, his uncoordinated fingers lacing over the back of his throbbing skull.

"Hey," Steve breathed, swiftly grabbing the first aid kit from the desk and, against his better judgment, opened the cell door. "Hey…hey, hang on Bucky…don’t hurt yerself pal…" The officer murmured, securely locking the cell door behind him before he began his tediously slow approach. "Hey Bucky?" He pressed, watching the other man, still doubled over, his fingers still worrying at the back of his head. "Bucky, look up at me." He ordered softly. "I want you to look at me, I don’t wanna scare you." In his current state of mind, Steve knew Bucky might be unpredictable, and frightening him by approaching too suddenly would only cause trouble.

Slowly, Bucky unlaced his twitching fingers, tipping his head up slowly, blood glistening around his mouth. His pupils were blown out, black nearly swallowing his iris, leaving only the thinnest band of gray around the edge. They looked glazed, and unfocused. God, he was sloshed. But as he looked at him, his eyes lit with recognition, and a faint smile pulled at his split lips.

"There we go…" Steve said, still murmuring encouragement as he knelt down between his muscular thighs, the concrete cold, and hard beneath his kneecaps. "Okay…lets get you patched up…" Steve whispered, almost to himself as he opened the first aid kit. First things first, Steve removed a moist towelette, tearing it from its wrapper, as discarding the little package. He wanted to get the blood and grime cleaned from Bucky’s skin so that he could assess the real damage. As of right now, it all looked bad. Bucky’s gaze had gone unfocused as Steve fussed with the kit, preparing what he needed to care for him. He glanced up, tentatively resting his hand on Bucky’s knee to ground the inebriated man back to reality. “Gonna clean your face up a bit okay Buck?” He asked, absently rubbing the pad of his thumb over Bucky’s kneecap. The gesture wasn’t strictly necessary, but Steve was much more interested in getting Bucky into a better state of body and mind than he was in maintain professional boundaries, because the truth was, he’d been missing the touch. Since their first night, since feeling Bucky’s hands on his waist, his mouth ghosting over his, Steve had craved the other man’s touch. Now, he was expressing that in its most innocent form. He offered the touch to him as a comfort, and that was all.

Bucky managed a little smile, swaying uncertainly where he sat. He felt warmth spread through his chest. Even drunk, the little gesture of affection wasn’t lost on him. “Y- Y’can do waddever you want Stevie…” He mumbled, his words almost incoherent and Steve grimaced in pain. The officer reached up slowly, gently touching the moist wipe to his cheek. He wiped carefully at the mess, streaking it away, cleaning Bucky’s pale flesh.

"God Bucky…" He whispered, staring at his batter face. His tongue slid out to moisten his lips, and he pressed in, softly dabbing away the dirt and blood, revealing the flushed, discolored skin beneath. "What the _hell_ did you do?"

Bucky closed his eyes, smirking faintly as Steve tenderly cleaned the evidence of the fight from his face. The moist wipe brought welcomed relieve from the itchy irritation of the dirt and blood. It cooled his aching skin, and Steve’s warm, solid touch eased the tense knot in the pit of his stomach. He’d missed Steve’s touch as well. “He started it…” Bucky said thickly, eyes still closed. Steve pulled back and Bucky nearly whined at the loss of the contact, at the loss of the medicinal coolness of the wipe. After a moment, his ears caught the sound of Steve tearing open a new package, and a second later, the soothing contact was back on his ravaged skin as Steve dabbed softly at the blood around his mouth and nose.

"If he started it, what are you doing here?" Steve questioned, his voice still soft as he scrubbed at a stubborn spot of dried blood in the corner of his mouth. 

Bucky winced at the pressure, waiting until Steve had moved on from his mouth to speak again. “Hit back a little too hard…” He slurred, slowly opening his bleary eyes. “Might’a…thrown’im into a window…” 

Steve dropped the moist cloth away from his face, fixing Bucky with a stern glare. Bucky met his gaze, unrepentant. A hiss of frustration escaped Steve’s lips and he tossed the wipe aside, snatching an antiseptic cream from the kit. “I thought you were trying to stay out of trouble.” Steve said, his tone agitated as he began to dab the cream around an ugly split on the other man’s cheekbone. 

"Stay’in out of trouble wasn’t any fun…" Bucky retorted, lurching slightly as he tried to keep himself upright. The blood Steve had just cleaned out of his split lip had begun to well in the crack again. "Besides," He slurred, "Got y’to pay attention to me…" 

Steve fingers froze mid dab, his expression going suddenly unreadable. Slowly, he finished applying to antiseptic to the cuts on Bucky’s face. He turned, wordlessly tugging a box of Band-Aids from the kit and selecting a few. He silently peeled their paper wrappers back, sealing them over the treated cuts. Bucky was staring at him; he could feel it even with his eyes lowered. He could feel the other man’s drunken gaze boring into him, waiting with baited breath for his response. Slowly, Steve lifted his eyes, meeting Bucky’s gaze. Despite their formerly unfocused appearance, Bucky’s eyes had gone piercing and sharp. His gray eyes tore into Steve in a way that was almost physically uncomfortable. He seemed to be measuring him, judging him, and waiting for his response. He seemed to be daring him to make an excuse.

Steve dropped his gaze away, nudging the first aid kit closed before pushing himself to his feet. Bucky’s stare followed him, and Steve hesitated, torn between wanting to just leave the statement hang and walk out of the cell, and pressing Bucky further, trying to find out what exactly was going on in his head. Since their first meeting, Steve’s mind had been completely out of whack. His thoughts kept wandering back to Bucky. Steve had tried to dismiss it as infatuation, lust, nothing beyond that, but the fact remained that Bucky had gotten under his skin, and apparently, he’d gotten under Bucky’s. The fact remained that Steve wanted to do more than nail him against a wall. He wanted to treat him gently. He wanted to see him do well. If he didn’t know it would be such a huge mistake, he wanted to believe he could love him.

"Look…" Steve breathed finally, taking a risk and sinking down on the edge of the cot. He rested his broad shoulders against the bars, his left leg stretched out along the backside of the cot. Steve hesitated a moment, trying to find the right words to say. He didn’t want to lead Bucky on, but he didn’t wan to hurt him either. "You…you don’t have to break the law, or…or get the crap beat out of you for me to pay attention to you…" He said softly, and Bucky shifting on the cot to face him, his unfocused eyes narrowed, and cold.

"Mmmm…" The younger man hummed coolly. "Pretty sure I do, actually. ‘Cause it seems like the only time you’ve so much as given me a second look is when I’ve been causing trouble."

Steve grimaced. He couldn’t deny that one. He’d paid Bucky more attention than he ever should have when he was his detainee. He’d singled him out for every petty crime he’d pulled, but when Bucky had asked him out like a normal person, he’d turned him down. He supposed that made him kind of a jackass. “Okay…you win on that one…” Steve relented, steeling his nerves. Bucky _had_ to understand, he _had_ to know he really couldn’t do that, that it would be better for everyone involved. There had to be something Steve could say that would make that clear. “Look…” He breathed. “I always feel…a little out of control when I’m around you, and to be dead honest, that scares the shit out of me.” The officer’s eyes fluttered closed and he drew in a deep, uncertain breath. “But…the point is…you’re doing stupid crap to try and get something I can’t give you. I can’t make something work with you, and I hate that, cause…I…think I could _really_ like you… _if_ I let myself, and I don’t want to see you get hurt like this…”

Suddenly, Steve felt Bucky’s muscular thighs straddle his lap and he startled, his eyes snapping open. The sudden sensation of a hot, wet mouth on his neck raced through his body, causing his heart rate to double and what felt like all the blood in his body rush downward. “Bucky!” He choked, his eye’s widening in alarm. “Bucky wh-“

"Shhh…." Bucky murmured, cutting him off as his hot breath hissed over the damp patches his mouth had left on Steve’s neck. He pressed in, sealing his mouth over Steve’s throat, his warm, wet tongue pressing tantalizingly against the flushed skin as his hands traced the officer’s muscular chest. "Relax," He murmured between kisses, working his mouth up along Steve’s jawline before sucking teasingly on the cartilage of his ear. 

Steve’s face flushed pink with pleasure, his hand’s twitching helplessly at his sides as his conflicted mind tried to assemble some form of sensible action. “Wait-” He panted shortly, his voice weakening as Bucky’s hands explored his torso, tracing the hard outlines of his muscles, his thumb finding one nipple through the fabric and rubbing it stiff. The sensation wrenched a moan from Steve’s lips and he caught his breath, suppressing a gasp of pleasure. “Wait. Bucky- you-” And then the brunet shifted his hips forward, and Steve’s mind went white with static.

The movement was slow, sinuous, teasing. He rocked forward on Steve’s lap, feeling the officer’s cock pressing into him, grinding against his hips. “Y’like that Steve?” He breathed huskily, rolling his hips as he straddled the other man’s lap, moving his body like a goddamn stripper. “Feels good?”

Steve groaned powerlessly as Bucky ground down harder on his cock, the sensation weakening his body, and filling his head with white noise. He found his hands subconsciously moving to rest on Bucky’s waist. Steve could feel the muscles tensing, and flexing powerfully as he rolled his hips in controlled, obscenely sexual movements. Even through the material of his shirt, Steve could feel heat radiating off of his skin, teasing him, tempting him to slid his hands under and feel his hot flesh against his palms. God. He needed this like he needed air. His will had corroded all but completely under Bucky's sensual touch. A full-throated whimper escaped Steve’s parted lips as he lifted his hips into the contact; desperate for the stimulation that was making his cock ache.  

"Hmm?" Bucky slurred, dragging his open mouth down to Steve’s collar bone and worrying at the skin with his teeth.

"Bucky-" The officer panted, his head dropping back against the bars weakly as Bucky’s sinful lips, traced wet patterns lower on his collar, nosing the navy blue material aside. Steve didn’t think he’d ever been more turned on in his life. Even watching Bucky strip, and feeling his body pressed against his through the bars of the holding cell was nothing compared to having the gorgeous brunet in his lap. He circled his hips seductively, grinding down harder and Steve could feel his boxers dampening as the cotton rubbed against his leaking erection. God, Bucky was going to have him cuming in his pants like a fucking teenager!

The other man’s hands worked under his shirt, the cold metal of the cuff’s chain touching lightly against his flushed skin. He let his fingers play across Steve’s firm abdominal muscles, stroking his warm skin before dropping to his waistband, dragging his zipper down with a light scrap against his straining cock.

The sound of Bucky sliding down the zipper of his slacks acted as a splash of freezing cold reality, and Steve startled, his hands flying to Bucky’s wrists as adrenaline surged through his body. “Wait no!” He blurted, his breath catching in his throat. Bucky twisted his hands away neatly, and in a flash, had looped the chain of his cuffs around the back if Steve’s neck and drew him in, pressing the whole length of his body against him. His sinful lips, swollen, and flushed blood red ghosted up his chin, making their way towards his mouth.

"Bucky." Steve snapped tightly, his heart racing. "I said no, now _stop it!"_ With one, fluid movement, Steve’s fingers closed around the chain against the back of his neck and he slipped it over his head, forcing Bucky back onto the cot with a rough _thump_. He dragged the other man’s wrists above his head by the chain, pinning them to the coarse canvass as he braced over him, chest heaving.

"That’s _enough_ now." Steve said firmly, his face flushed, his throat feeling oddly cold as Bucky’s saliva cooled on his skin. At the touch of Bucky’s fingers to his waist, Steve’s anxiety had spiked, leaving him dry-mouthed, and shaky, his thoughts racing around his mind at uncontrolled speeds. He felt like he was going to be sick. The officer set his jaw, his eyes giving the impression of a spooked animal. "I don’t want _any_ more of that, do you understand?"

Bucky stared up at Steve, his glazed eyes wide with alarmed as the larger man pinned him to the cot, his rough hands crushing the metal cuffs into his already bruised skin. The brunet’s flushed lips moved wordlessly, his gaze dropping to Steve’s mouth before dragging back up to his eyes. Bucky exhaled shakily, suddenly wordless under Steve’s sharp reprimand. He looked stunned, hurt, and actually, almost scared…

The expression hit Steve like a punch to the heart, guilt suddenly dumping into the toxic mixture of anxiety, desire, and hurt that churned inside of him. The man swallowed back the tight knot that had formed in his throat, and slowly eased off of Bucky’s wrists. He drew back away from him, Bucky remaining on the cot as he stood soundlessly to his feet. He hated himself for shoving Bucky away like that, for rejecting him…for hurting him…Still, he couldn’t have let that go on. Steve turned away quickly, needing escape as he walked to the door of Bucky’s cell, digging for the key.

"I don’t understand you."

Steve paused. Bucky’s voice was shaky, and ragged, seeming to ring in Steve’s ears. “You want me…” He rasped, and out of the corner of his eye Steve could see him push himself up into a sitting position. “You want me, I can tell…but you keep running…”

Steve swallowed tightly, sliding the key from his pocket and unlocking the door. Even drunk, Bucky had a knack for cutting right to the heart of the problem, and the truth of his words pieced through Steve’s mind like a hot poker. He _did_ want Bucky. Bucky was _all_ he wanted recently. But still, he was trying to distance himself from the man, trying to hold on to the control that threatened to slip away from him whenever Bucky was near. He was so tired…he desperately wanted to stop running, but he couldn’t, it simply wasn’t an option.

Steve slipped from the cell, leaving Bucky unanswered, and alone. The dark haired man heaved a sigh, dropping back on to the cot. His head was still throbbing, but the cooling tingle of the cream Steve had so tenderly applied was almost worse. It didn’t hurt, but I was a brutal remind; a reminder that nothing about Steve Rogers made _any_ sense. He worried over him, he cleaned his injuries, divulged that he didn’t want to see him hurt. He looked at him with warmth even in his reprimand…yet he shoved him back, snapped that he didn’t want to be touched. Even an innocent invitation to coffee had been coldly turned down, and to Bucky, it was nonsense. If you liked someone, you chased them, you ran _after_ them, not _away_.

Bucky curled in on himself tightly, squeezing his eyelids closed. He didn’t want to see Steve, or that stupid office, or this stupid fucking cell for a second longer.

Suddenly, something soft came to rest on Bucky’s feet. The brunet pried his eyes open, reluctance yanking at his body, pride and stubbornness willing him to close his eyes and ignore whatever it was. But curiosity won out. Bucky shifted, turning his head to see a small pillow and an extra blanket, folded into a neat square, resting on his feet. Steve was already slipping away from the bars, but paused when Bucky met his gaze. He had the decency to look a little guilty before offering Bucky a small smile.

"Try and get some sleep…" He whispered. "It’ll help your body heal…"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank so much for all of the feedback on this guys! I love to hear from you, it's a huge motivator for me. <3


	4. Let Me Formally Appologize

Bucky _didn’t_ sleep well. Nausea and throbbing headaches hit him in waves, the migraine-like pain pulsing over his skull, pounding in his ears. Almost as bad as the pain in his head was the heavy, deafening silence that hung over the entire room. Since he’d deposited the pillow and blanket into Bucky’s cell, Steve hadn’t spoken a word. He’d gone back to his desk and sat with his shoulders bowed, his head tipped to conceal his expression. Bucky would stir from his restless sleep every few hours to search the other man’s face. Sometimes he was sleeping, more often than not he was staring blearily at his work. It was apparent that Steve couldn’t find rest either.

The morning was worse. Steve was up and moving around, but never strayed near the cell; he never met Bucky’s gaze and after a while, Bucky stopped trying. The heavy silence that hung between them was suffocating, and relentless. It was hung with too much desire, and hurt, and confusion, and neither of them could handle it. It was a welcomed relief when Officer Romanov came to relieve Steve at nine o’clock as promised.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Steve stepped into the hallway outside the office for a moment, and he could already sense Natasha’s searching gaze. He could feel it, prickling, burning across the back of his neck. Her intense stare met his as Steve turned, coming around to face her. Once Nat had given him a quick once over, she pursed her lips, absently folding her arms across her chest. “Your guy behave for you last night?” She asked, judging the look on his face and waiting to hear the list of everything that had gone wrong. Steve looked whipped, and that could only mean that things had gone poorly.

Steve hesitated at the question, his words dying in his throat. For a brief second, his mind ran through everything that had transpired between when Natasha had last left him, and now. Images of Bucky, straddling his lap and grinding himself down against his erect member, surged through his mind. A hot, wet mouth against his throat; warm hands teasing under the hem of his clothing, the touch of cold metal against his stomach...Steve straightened, blinking the images away. “He was just fine.” He said simply, and a small frown tugged at Nat’s brow.

"Yeah?" She asked, Steve’s mixed signals throwing her off. "Nothing to report?"

Her question was answered with a dismissive little shake of his head. “No, it was fine. I’m just tired.”

Natasha watched him for a few long moments before coming to a conclusion. If there was more to the story, she’d find out about it later, and she _would_. Right now, Steve needed rest. Her mood relaxed as the woman reached out, gently brushing Steve’s shoulder. “Go home Rogers.” She said with a tiny half-smile. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Some of the brutal tightness in Steve’s chest loosened under the friendly touch, and he managed an appreciative nod. “Right…” He murmured, brushing his finger softly against her elbow before turning away from the contact. The female officer’s hand slipped from his shoulder, and she watched him go, a worried frown creasing her brow. Steve was her friend, and he hadn’t been right for weeks now. Nat wasn’t one to pry, but she liked answers, and she was keen on finding out exactly what was going on with officer Rogers.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The five hours of sleep Steve got upon stumbling into his house and slumping, fully dressed, on his bed, was the last real rest he’d receive. His body was exhausted, and the second he’d fallen into the mattress he’d fallen into a heavy sleep. For a few hours, his conflicted, tormented mind was allowed a small measure of peace. And then he woke.

Bucky was the first thought in his head the second he was conscious, a bitter reminder of just how completely Bucky had worked himself into Steve’s emotions. From his first waking moment on, the brunet was the only thought in his head, no matter how hard he tried to chase him out. Steve couldn’t help but feel like he’d made a terrible mistake. His anxiety tossed his emotions around helplessly, making it impossible to decide whether he was feeling guilt for shoving Bucky away, or for ever getting attached to begin with. Still, whether he wanted to admit it or not, _attached_ was just what he’d become.

He wanted Bucky, constantly, desperately. He needed to know more about him. He needed to hear his voice, and see that breathtaking smile. He needed to touch him. Of course, he’d thoroughly sabotaged every single chance and opening Bucky had thrown at him. He given him opportunity to get close to him time and time again, and still, Steve had rejected him. He’d forced Bucky away and that was the end of the story. Even someone as persistent as him was bound to give up eventually…

Having the weekend to recover had sounded like an amazing idea, but with nothing to occupy his time, and nothing but Bucky to occupy his thoughts, Steve was growing restless and anxious. He couldn’t sit still. Sleep rarely came, and if it did, it was in short, feverish spurts that almost always had him tossing and turning from uncomfortable dreams, waking with the sweet taste of cherry red lips on his mouth and the bile of his own mistakes in his throat.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Steve sat slumped at his kitchen table, his head fuzzy form lack of sleep. His mouth was dry, and he felt as though his bones had turned to lead. It was three o’clock on Sunday afternoon, and despite his exhaustion, Steve couldn’t wait to get back to work. Anything was better then sitting here, alone in his house, haunted by his mistakes and uncertainties. He’d rather throw himself into his job, work himself until he was too exhausted to stay upright, and finally sleep without dreams of blood red lips and a full-arm tattoo.

Steve blinked heavily, gripping the edge of the table and pushing himself up. He’d made himself two cups of coffee already today, but without the caffeine, his body was beginning to suffer. He needed something, _anything_ to keep himself going. If he slept even a little bit now, his body would never relax tonight. Steve walked over to the counter, mechanically changing the filter and pouring another four cups of water into the machine. He had just moved to add the grounds when the sound of his doorbell chimed through the house. Steve startled slightly, the sudden noise having triggered an adrenaline dump that worried at his frayed nerved. He stopped shortly, gripping the counter as he grounded himself. He needed to get his anxiety back under control. Steve had been off of meds for a long time, he’d been doing much better. He was thinking maybe it was time to give the medication a second look.

A soft sigh escaped his lips and he turned away, leaving the much-needed caffeine behind. Steve made his way to the front door, willing his heart rate to settle. It wasn’t all bad. A visitor, at least, would provide a welcomed distraction. The blond haired officer took the doorknob in his hand, giving it a neat turn, and pulling the door open.

Bucky Barnes was standing on his doorstep.

Steve startled, the vision hitting him like a punch to he chest, all the recently settled nerves and anxiety kicking back up, flooding his mind with near-panic. “Bucky?” He asked, his voice oddly strained as he tried to get his bearings, tried to settle his racing thoughts. He wasn’t prepared for this.

Bucky shifted on the doorstep, with a half-hearted smile. He was wearing clean, casual clothing, having abandoned the bloodied, torn garments Steve had seen him in last. He was fresh, and showered, his long, chestnut hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. In his left hand, he held a small, cardboard holder with two steaming cups of coffee. “Hey…” He said tentatively, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I uh…wanted to stop by to tell you that…I’ve been an ass. And I’m sorry. Coffee?”

Steve blinked, stunned as Bucky’s words sunk in. He gave a short shake of his head, a look of confusion phasing over his features. “Wait. How did you find my house?” He demanded, and instantly wished his voice hadn’t sounded so sharp. Bucky’s tentative smile had fallen.

"Got to know your friend Officer Romanov." He explained, forcing the smirk back, but nervousness had entered his gaze. "She kept an eye on my the past two days until my sister bailed me out…apparently she’s been tryin to set you up with a date for the past two years."

"Yeah but-" Steve protested haltingly, and Bucky’s smirk softened.

"I… _may_ have mentioned that I’d asked you out for coffee before. After I was released, I asked her if she knew where I could find you. She got me hooked up with your address." Bucky continued, and it was only once Bucky was passing him on his way into the kitchen did Steve become aware that he’d stepped back to allow him entrance. He didn’t necessary remember ushering him in, but the fact remained that Bucky was here now.

He politely toed his shoes off at the door, and Steve following dumbly behind as Bucky stepped into the kitchen. He felt oddly as though he were on autopilot; talking to Bucky, letting him in, murmuring for him to have a seat, it seemed almost involuntary. Involuntary, or instinctual.

As Bucky sunk into the kitchen chair opposite Steve, he lifted one of the cups from the small, cardboard holder, sliding it over to him. “Here,” He murmured, actually looking almost timid. “I didn’t know how you liked it, so, it’s black. Hope that’s okay.”

Steve received the cup in a daze, the warmth of the drink sending a tingle up through his fingers. “No, that fine. I like it black.”

At the confirmation, Bucky’s face lit up in a smile, and Steve realized with a dull shock that he was totally gone for this guy. His smile lit up the entire room. It crinkled the corners of his eyes, and excluded a kind if warmth and light that cause a sensation of bubbling happiness to rise in Steve’s chest. Nothing seemed to make Bucky happier than confirmation and praise.

The man ducked his head, suddenly trying to stuff the easy grin. “Look,” he said, glancing up. “I came here to apologize, properly.” Bucky exhaled softly, his wet, pink tongue sliding distractingly over his lower lip. “I’m…a needy person. I like attention, I like touch, and I like to flirt…usually, that didn’t really seem to bug people, and either they’re receptive, or I back off, but…I couldn’t get a read in you…so I kept pushing…and that was wrong…” He said uncomfortably, his cheeks darkening in a flush that was suddenly _extremely_ distracting. With Bucky looking so embarrassed and repentant, Steve suddenly could suppress a rush of affection. Bucky had proved to him that there was more to him than a snarky flirt who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

"I didn’t back off when you told me to, and you had _every_ right to get mean with me. I…understand if you’d rather I’d stay out of your hair from now on," Bucky said, shifting to his feet, flexing his fingers nervously around his coffee cup. "Just uh…consider the coffee a peace offering…and…I guess I’ll leave you alone…"

Steve looked up suddenly, a frown pulling at his brow. “Bucky.” He said shortly, setting the cup aside and standing up. His chair jarred loudly against the table as it shoved back, but Steve paid it little mind, intercepting Bucky at the doorway of the kitchen. He grabbed the other man’s wrist, stopping him dead. Bucky turned back to look at him, startled, and uncertain. Steve couldn’t help but think that Bucky felt he’d done something wrong. His expression was tight, and nervous. He didn’t want to cause any more trouble for Steve. He felt he’d already done plenty enough of that already. Steve wet his mouth uncertainly. “Do you know why was so insistent about pushing you away the other night?” He asked, his cheeks going warm at the mere thought of having Bucky grinding down on his lap.

Bucky dropped his head, a tiny, self depreciating smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. “Lets see, y’want me to start listing alphabetically?” He asked huskily, his fingers twitching uncertainly as Steve’s hand tightened on his wrist.

"Because you were drunk." He said shortly, tugging his wrist gently to turn him around to face him. "You were drunk, and there was no way you could have given me proper consent."

Bucky paused, a hesitant smile touching his features. “Even if I was the one initiating it?” He pressed, easing forward along with Steve’s guidance, lifting his face up towards his.

Steve gave a bitter little snort. “Come one Buck, I’ve initiated things when _I_ was drunk that I _wished_ someone would have stopped me. I wasn’t about to let you have same regret.” Steve said earnestly, finally letting his fingers slide away from his wrist. His hand felt warm from the contact against Bucky’s skin and Steve shied back away, suddenly turned to go back to the table, taking the steaming travel cup in his hands. It mimicked the warmth of the other man’s skin, yet at the same time, it was a poor substitute.

Bucky watched Steve’s movements and reactions curiously, strolling after him back to the table. “So…pushing me back, that wasn’t because you didn’t like it…”

Steve snorted. “Trust me,” he scoffed, “ _‘not liking it’_ didn’t even factor in. I was seriously struggling with enjoying what to we’re doing _too_ much…but…you were _really_ drunk, and I was on duty. I didn’t want to take advantage of you, and I didn’t want to get in trouble wish my superiors for fucking a prisoner in the holding cell.”

The brunet dropped his weight back against the table, absently crossing his arms over his chest. He studied Steve curiously from under sleepily lowered lids, a small smirk lingering on his features. Bucky looked like he was turning the comment over in his mind, imagining the situation, imagining how it might have played out if Steve had had a little _less_ restraint. Steve knew he had. He’d imagined cuffing Bucky to the cot just like he’d asked and fucking him senseless, until he couldn’t breath, until Steve’s name was the only sound in his mouth. But as Steve had imagined the taste of whiskey on his lips, his stomach would turn with guilt, and he knew he never could have. If something like that were to happen, Steve would want it only if Bucky were sober. Still, the images didn’t seem to be offering Bucky any form of guilt at all. He continued to study him, but he said nothing, deciding not to press the suggestive comment.

Bucky’s smirk suddenly softened affectionately, his hooded gray eyes growing warm. "I like you Steve." He said, the skin around his eyes crinkling as his smile widened. "But I’ve got to ask, am I on the right track here? Or do you always plan on being so emotionally unavailable?"

The sight of Bucky’s smile caused a sudden explosion of butterflies in his stomach, his thoughts of restraint and caution skittering away, skipping stone across sunny water. He was so gorgeous…Steve suddenly couldn’t stand to be careful for a moment longer. Steve eased his cup of coffee down onto the table, moving forward slowly, his expression warming with affection. “I might be able to be persuaded…” He said softly.

Bucky shifted away from the table, easing forward slowly so that Steve would have time to pull back if he changed his mind. When Steve didn’t move, he pressed forward, his chest touching lightly against his. It wasn’t a full, pressing contact, just a gentle brush, just enough of a touch the send electricity racing through Steve’s body. The other man’s hands feathered softly against his chest, his fingers snagging the material slightly as he slid his palms downward. “Good to know…” Bucky drawled, his breath hot on his lips as he slid forward, his stubbly chin scraping ever so gently against Steve’s “but you’ve got to do the initiating now okay? Just so I’m sure…don’t leave me in the dark…”

Steve shuddered as Bucky’s hot breath ghosted across his lips, warming his mouth and sending a flutter of pleasure down through his body. Slowly, Steve swallowed the bait, leaning into Bucky’s touch. With hesitance, Steve let his hands lift from his sides moving to rest ever so lightly on Bucky’s waist. He felt as firm, and as solid as he remembered; so warm, so undeniably _real_. Despite how strange and unreal the entire situation felt, _Bucky_ was real, he was real and he wanted _him_. His body was flushed with hot blood, and Steve could feel him tensing with anticipation, his muscles quivering with restraint.

Finally, Steve let his self slip, let himself plunge so deeply in over his head that he knew there was _no way_ he was ever going to be able to come out. He leaned forward, and captured Bucky’s mouth in a tender kiss. The blond officer closed their lips together, tasting the smirk that lingered on Bucky’s mouth, tasting the pent up desire and want that he’d seen traced on his blood red lips whenever he’d laid eyes on them.

Bucky moved into the kiss. The second Steve’s lips touched his own, he craned forward, shifting his head to fit his lips more perfectly against the hot curve of the other man’s mouth. When he had considered what it would be like to kiss his guard the first night he’d been his prisoner, Bucky had failed to take _so many_ things into account. He’d been imagining kissing him for a little easy entertainment, a cheep thrill from seeing him recoil in alarm. Bucky hadn’t considered that Steve would _ever_ kiss him back. He hadn’t considered that Steve mouth would be _so_ warm, and _so_ soft., that his hands would feel so comfortable and so _right_ resting on his body. He hadn’t considered that Steve would smell like lavender laundry soap, and taste like bitter black coffee. He hadn’t anticipated the way he would feel Steve’s heart beat flutter when he slid his hands up his chest, bringing them to rest on the sides of his neck. Bucky had never imagined, and when Steve Rogers’ hands drew him against him by his hips, that his heart would skip a beat, and his breath would hitch with delight. He’d been over his head the moment he’d laid eyes on the gorgeous blond officer, and Bucky was just now begin in to fully accept that.

Steve pulled back slowly, Bucky’s lips still caught between his own for a few brief second before he let it slip reluctantly. Bucky sighed against his mouth, their lips still touching even after the kiss had been reluctantly broken.

"Wow…" Bucky whispered breathlessly. "I’m _so_ glad I didn’t kiss you when I was drunk…that’s one I want to remember…"

Steve hummed softly, his expression softening with affection. He lifted his hands away from his waist, gently drawing them up to cup around Bucky’s jawline, and pressing another gently kiss to his flushed lips. He held it for a long moment, savoring the sensation of Bucky’s warm mouth against his. The soft, teasing touches had been enough to drive him crazy before, but absolutely _nothing_ could compare to just how amazing it was to have Bucky’s wet, full lips pressing so completely against his own. He never wanted to stop. He wanted to kiss Bucky until he was dizzy, until his knees went weak and he forgot the cold rejections and the sharp reprimand in his voice. He wanted Bucky to feel so drunk on his affection that he could almost taste the whiskey on his mouth again, that he felt lightheaded, and giddy. Steve want to know that it was all because of him.

When Steve went to break the kiss again, Bucky chased the contact. He craned forward, grabbing Steve’s collar in a moment of desperation and tugging him in closer. Steve’s broad chest jarred against his with a muted thump as they were suddenly pressed, flush together.

Steve startled at the sudden intensity, his stomach exploding with an exited fluttering that spread out, warming every inch of his body. In a moment, Steve’s hands had moved from Bucky’s neck to his hair, tugging through the chestnut locks until strands began to escape the neat ponytail, curling softly around his face, feathering his jawline.

Bucky groaned into Steve’s open mouth, pressing forward until Steve stumbled back a pace, the small of his back thumping gently against the counter. This kiss was intoxicating, overwhelming Bucky’s sense and reason. He knew nothing, except that he was never going to find another person in the world who’d mouth fit so perfectly against his. Steve’s lips were made to fit the warm, wet curve of his mouth. His hands seemed to conform to the shape of Steve’s neck and shoulders and the tingle of the other man’s fingers carding though his hair gave Bucky a sense of belonging that he’d never felt before. He didn’t care how it started or where it would go, but he knew this was right. From the second his mouth had touched his, Bucky had known that he and Steve Rogers were supposed to be together.

Steve’s hands slid from Bucky’s hair, down the back of his neck, following the gorgeous curve of his spine all the way down to his narrow waist. He drew him in closer, pressing one wide palm to the small of his back as he held Bucky tightly against himself. His other arm wrapped around Bucky’s muscular shoulder, holding him closer, feeling the warmth of his body against his own. Steve pressed the kiss for one moment more, before breaking the contact, his breath escaping him in a gasp. Steve stared at Bucky, his heart hammering in his chest as Bucky stared back at him, alarmed, and _thoroughly_ delighted. “Fuck…” Steve gasped, the word sounding oddly reverent as he stared at Bucky as though he were the single most beautiful thing he’d seen in his entire life.

Bucky managed a strained laugh, his arms having gotten trapped, curled against Steve’s chest when the other man he pulled him against his body with such passion and intensity. His grip hadn’t eased, and Bucky had never been more comfortable. Something about being wrapped so firmly in Steve’s strong arms made him feel undeniably, and incredibly, safe. It was a sensation Bucky couldn’t honestly say he’d ever felt before.

Steve caught his breath, his mouth dry, his head spinning from the endorphins that had been so suddenly dumped into his system. He looked stunned. His face had gone ever so slightly pink.

"Well?" Bucky pressed, smirking despite the little niggle of unease that was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. "Don’t just stare at me, say somethin’." He was almost afraid of the stunned expression on Steve’s face. He was afraid that Steve was changing his mind, that he was deciding that maybe he didn’t want him after all. At this point, Bucky almost couldn’t stand that. He wanted to be with Steve. He knew that now. He would do anything to make it work.

Steve blinked rapidly, his head clearing as he became aware of Bucky’s sudden nervousness. He paused for a second, anything charming, or reassuring fleeing his mind. But the least he could do was cut straight to the point. “Do you wanna stay for dinner?” He blurted, staring down at him, still warped in his arms, one hand still resting on his lower back.

Bucky’s gaze snapped up, surprised, and for a moment, confused. “What- you’re serious?” He asked, his gaze snapping away and then back again nervously, stealing around the room.

Steve paused, easing his hold on Bucky’s body and reluctantly pulling back to give him a little space. “Well…yeah…” He said uncertainly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I…I’ve been as much of an ass as you have and…all thing considered, I think I should make that up to you.” He said, watching Bucky’s expression closely. For a moment, Bucky’s face clouded with suspicion and Steve hurried on quickly. “Please,” he said shortly, his heart skipping a beat as he reached out, snatching Bucky’s hand in his own. “I want you stay…”

Bucky’s eyes followed the movement, watching Steve gently curl his finger around his hand, drawing him in a step closer. He paused for a moment, concerned. He wanted this to be real. He wanted Steve to want him there. He didn’t want Steve to be asking him to stay simple to make up for something. But as Bucky lifted his chin up to studied Steve’s expression, his worries slipped away. His expression was open and honest, his gaze held level with Bucky’s and Bucky felt his heart melt. Steve _wanted_ him. He _really_ wanted him!

He brunet’s expression broke into a grin, and he drew Steve forward by his hands, touching a teasing peck to the corner of his mouth. “Dinner sounds amazing…” He murmured, his stubble scraping against Steve’s skin.

At Bucky’s assurance, Steve felt himself relax, and he managed a nervous smile. “I guess I should think of a plan of some sorts then huh?” He asked his skin suddenly feeling cold as Bucky pulled away walking back over to where their coffees still set, abandoned on the table.

"I’ll help you if y’want." He drawled, smirking faintly as he made his offer, leaning back against the table. He crossed his legs at the ankles, resting his elbows on the hardwood table as he twisted absently at the lid of his coffee.

Steve’s gaze slid over, watching him drop his weight back, watching the way he ran his tongue so teasingly over his plush lower lips. He was gorgeous. He was sinful. Steve was in _way_ over his head. “Sure,” Steve said with what he hoped looked like an easy, absent shrug. He was trying to seem relaxed, and casual, but all he could think about was how in the _world_ he was going to make it through dinner without pinning Bucky to his kitchen table.

 


	5. Forget Dinner

"Bucky- Bucky stop, Bucky!"

Steve smacked Bucky’s picking fingers away from the thin strips of beef searing in the pan. He’d chosen a simple stir-fry for dinner, and Bucky had been remarkably helpful up until the moment when he ran out of things to chop. Before Steve could even register the movement, Bucky’s hand snatched out, lifting one of the browned strips of beef out if the pan. He drew back, and quickly tucked it away, chewing smugly as Steve shot him disgruntled glare.

"Bucky." Steve said shortly, his glare weakening as Bucky swallowed, his mouth spreading into a grin.

"Don’t be mad Stevie," he smirked, sliding forward and pressing a kiss to his jawline.

Steve’s eyelids fluttered, the little frown slipping away. A soft sigh escaped his lips as Bucky gently worked his mouth along his jaw, his tattooed fingers tracing maddeningly light patterned along his spine. “You’re distracting me…” He murmured, the fork he’d been using to diligently turn the meat nearly slipping from his numb fingers.

"Perfect…" Bucky breathed, turning his head to pressing his mouth against the hollow of Steve’s throat, experimentally pressing his tongue against the soft flesh. He was rewarded with a little moan, and he smiled into the kiss. Bucky reached forward, hooking his index fingers through Steve’s belt loops and drawing him forward, easing his hips gently against his.

Steve’s free hand slid up, nestling into the back of Bucky’s hair as he soaked in the sensation of the attention he was laving on his neck. _God_ Bucky had the most perfect lips. Steve wouldn’t complain to have them anywhere on his body, and at this point, it hardly mattered. As Bucky nipped softly at his collarbone, Steve gave a barely suppressed whine of pleasure. “Bucky…” He murmured weakly. “The- the meat…”

Bucky slowly lifted his lips from Steve’s skin and he could feel the other man aching from the loss. “Mmmmhhh…” He hummed absently, sliding around behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist, settling his scruffy chin into the crook of Steve’s neck. “Can’t have to meat burning,” Bucky murmured, watching in childish delight as Steve tried so desperately to focus on getting the meat turned. He leaned in, kissing the side of his neck absently and watching the tip of the fork dip as his attention wavered.

"Okay," Steve said, turning in Bucky’s arms and taking his scruffy chin in one hand. "I just need a minute, _please_ , you’re drivin’ me nuts."

Bucky gave a satisfied smirk, tugging his chin out of Steve’s hand and obediently stepped away. “Oh I know…” He drawled, but refrained from touching him while he set to turning the meat. Bucky rested his weight back against the counter, smiling fondly as he watched Steve preparing their dinner. His hands moved deftly as he added a few more seasonings to the meat before incorporating in the carrots, mushroom and spinach, stirring it together as he added soy sauce to help wilt the greens.

Finally, Steve covered the pan with a large lid to let everything steam together and turned back to Bucky. He studied him for a moment, knowing the other man had been watching him while he worked. “So,” Steve started, leaning back against the counter beside him. “Just between us, since I’m off duty, what kind of trouble can I expect to find you getting into? I wouldn’t hate seeing you in the middle of my work day for a few minutes…”

Bucky dropped his gaze, a little smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Nope. No more of that for me.” He said, looking back up to meet Steve’s gaze evenly. He paused, looking serious for a moment before his face cracked into a smile, and he cupped Steve’s face for a brief kiss. “Why bother making a problem? I’ve _got_ you’re attention now.”

A little, pleased hum escaped Steve’s lips, his mouth tingling from the contact that had been so brief and yet, the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. “Fully.” Steve agreed, quickly returning the peck before turning away to check the stir-fry. “But I’ve gotta ask, why me?” He pressed, staring absently down at their dinner. “And why go to such lengths to get my attention?”

Bucky paused, watching as Steve retrieved a large bowl from an upper cupboard and began transferring the stir-fry from the pan to the serving bowl. “Well…” He started slowly, drifting over to the table and sinking down. “I guess when two thirds of your family tries to pretend you don’t exist, you get a little desperate for attention…”

Steve drew to a stop; bowl in hand, staring down at Bucky. “Really?” He asked softly, gently setting the serving dish down and siting down across from him.

Bucky shrugged absently. “Yeah, I was never really a well behaved kid, you might have guessed,” he added as an aside, his body relaxing as he saw the little smile it coaxed from Steve. The older man had shifted forward, scooping a full portion of the stir-fry onto Bucky’s plate before serving himself. The brunet stabbed absently at a chunk of mushroom, studying it thoughtlessly. “When my little sister, Rebecca, was born, she suddenly became the favorite. She was always polite and well behave, and…I was trouble, so I guess they decided I wasn’t worth the time and effort they were putting into me. I just kind of got…ignored…ironically, Rebecca was the only person in my family I _didn’t_ hate.” Bucky shrugged, popping the mushroom into his mouth and rolling it around on his tongue. “I mean, yeah, she was my parents favorite and everyone liked her so much better, but she didn’t really know that we were any different. Beccs and I have always been friends, even if I was always considered to be the bad influence.”

Steve digested this information, sitting in silence as the two if them eat. He processed the words into his picture of Bucky, and found that they fit perfectly. It explained a lot, and suddenly so much of what Bucky did made sense. His determination, his stubbornness and persistence. It all steamed from his parent’s inattentiveness. His lack of boundaries…just a neglected young man who was so desperate for recognition that he’d do anything, even break the law, for even the illusion of attention. Steve’s heart broke for him. He knew how it felt to be overlooked. He’d been ignored and abandoned plenty of times when he’d been a tiny, sickly teenager. It still hurt, even as an adult, wondering what you did, why you weren’t good enough. At least he’d had his family. Bucky hadn’t had that blessing. As a child, to have to wonder why your parents didn’t seem to love you…Steve couldn’t imagine…

The silence had hung between them for sometime, and Bucky had ducked his head, eating quietly, although Steve’s lack of response had clearly made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Steve would feel…like a substitute. Like he could have his parent’s affections so he’d chase down a stranger to make fall for him. Like Steve was a cheep replacement for the kind of love he couldn’t hope to have. But it wasn’t true. Bucky knew now that he wanted Steve more than anything. He wanted to love him. He wanted Steve to love him back…

Bucky had been so consumed by his concerns they he startled, his fork clattering against his partially finished plate, when Steve’s fingers grazed his jawline. He turned quickly, his eyes snapping up to meet Steve’s.

The blond officer was staring at him with warmth and affection, tinged with sadness. His thumb brushed ever so lightly over his chin, sliding up to gently trace his plush lower lip. He just stared at him, silent, for a long moment. Bucky couldn’t make sense of exactly what he was thinking, but the compassion in his gaze made him feel weak with longing. Steve slid forward until he was sitting on the edge of his chair, their knees brushing together, Bucky’s chin held in his hand. He leaned closer and Bucky flushed as the other man gently rested his forehead against his.

"You’re worth so much more than that…" He murmured, closing his eyes, their dinners long forgotten. He could feel Bucky’s hot breath escaping his lips, ghosting over his thumb, which still roved softly over the flushed skin.

Bucky’s words failed him and a soft groan slipped from his throat. His eyelids fluttered closed, a tingle running through his body as the older man softly placed a hand on his thigh. Bucky sighed, craning closer, soaking in the affection he’d been deprived of his entire life.

Steve relented willingly, leaning forward and closing his mouth softly over Bucky’s, his hand tracing the brunet’s roughly stubbled jawline. He could taste the desperation on his lips, feel his longing and desire in the warmth of his mouth. Bucky deserved so much more than what he’d been settled with as a child. He deserved to be loved; to be treated as something with worth.

The blond officer slid his hand further up Bucky’s thigh, his thumb rubbing softly over the material as he slid his palm back down towards his knee. He paused a moment before running it back up the length of Bucky’s muscular leg, absently stroking him, feeling the powerful chords of muscles just under the skin.

Bucky shivered at the touch, craning forward as Steve stroked his thigh, his hands firm, and reassuring. One still lingered along his jaw, holding him securely, the gesture almost commanding. Bucky didn’t think he’d ever experienced anything quite as hot. Something about Steve holding him down, holding him still while he had his way with him made Bucky’s cock twitch with interest.

Steve’s hand stilled abruptly at the top of his thigh, and he broke the kiss, his gaze dropping downward. Bucky’s straining dick was pressing against the material of his jeans, outlined all too plainly for Steve to see. He paused a moment, drinking in the sight before suddenly leaning forward, crushing his mouth against Bucky’s, his hand moving to palm his erection through the material.

A pitiful whine was torn from Bucky’s lips as he struggled forward hungrily, dragging Steve against him as they unconsciously rose to their feet. In a moment, Steve had surged forward, pushing Bucky against the wall and pressing almost painfully into his crotch, feeling his aching cock through the denim. “Steve-” Bucky gasped, scraping his nails along the back of his neck as the other man pressed him firmly against the kitchen walls.

He muffled Bucky’s noises with a rough kiss, his free hand coming up to tangle through his hair, his other working insistently at the front of his jeans. Bucky’s body was flushed warm, pressed fully against his own. His heart was racing, and he felt like there was a charge running through his body, building, and building the deeper he kissed him.

Steve broke the kiss with a gasp, nuzzling his nose against Bucky’s face, panting softly. “Upstairs?” He asked breathlessly, and Bucky rewarded him with a smirk.

"And what’s up there that’s worth my time?" He purred, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear Steve say it. He slid his hands down the other man’s back, settling them on his god-send of an ass, one hand slipping mischievously down under the material.

Steve suppressed a groan, dipping his head slightly as he felt Bucky’s fingers curl against his ass, squeezing the soft flesh, the tips digging into the firm muscle beneath. “My bedroom…” He panted, turning his head in and desperately kissing at Bucky’s throat, feeling the vibrations as he surrendered a moan of pleasure. “Lube, condoms…” He breathed, working up to his jawline.

"Sounds like it has- fuck-" he choked as Steve gripped at the front of his pants. "P- potential." He managed the choke, feeling weak at the knees as he groped mechanically at his gorgeous ass.

Steve drew back, flushed as he untangled his fingers from Bucky’s hair. He reached behind, grabbing Bucky’s wrist to pull his hand away from his ass and, pressing a quick kiss to he corner of his mouth, drug him out of the kitchen.

Bucky couldn’t get up the stairs fast enough. Clutching Steve’s hand, he dragged him down the hallway, stumbling clumsily up the stairs. He staggered at the top, his weight dropping against Steve’s chest as the other man pulled him into a quick, forceful kiss before yanking open the door to his bedroom and pushing him inside. Bucky allowed him to shove him against the wall, his back hitting the solid surface with a thump. There was no way around it, Bucky could never get enough of Steve shoving him around. He wanted him to pin him down, fuck him roughly, bite him, he didn’t care; he wanted _everything_.

Steve drew in a deep breath, his wet mouth grazing Bucky’s throat and he dropped his hands to his waist, yanking feverishly at the other man’s belt. A moan of pleasure met his ears and Steve smirked, latching on to Bucky’s neck and sucking at the pale skin as he stripped his jeans off his gorgeous hips. In a moment, he knew it wasn’t enough; he needed more.

With one, swift movement, Steve grabbed the hem of his own shirt, yanking it up over his head and dropping it carelessly to the side. Bucky rested his weight against the wall, watching, staring, his gaze raking hungrily over his torso. He’d imagined what Steve was hiding under his starched navy blue uniform shirts, he’d felt it, but he’d never imagined that he’d look so fucking perfect! He had only a moment to drink in Steve’s stunning physique before the blond moved forward, stripping Bucky’s shirt off easily over his head and pressing himself against him one more.

Steve leaned in, pressing his broad chest against Bucky’s, feeling the other man’s trim, cut body leaning hungrily into his. One hand found its way to Bucky’s waist, sliding down until his rested just over his ass. The brunet groaned helplessly as his pinky teased along the waistband of his boxers, dipping into the cleft of his ass. “God Bucky…” He breathed reverently, kissing down his neck and across his shoulder. “You’re fucking perfect…” Steve kissed down his left arm, unable to help himself as he slid his tongue over the blood red star inked on his bicep. He had wanted to get his mouth on Bucky’s tattoo from the moment he’d laid eyes on it. Steve sucked at the skin, licking and kissing the lines of ink. “Fucking gorgeous…you’re _beautiful_ …”

Bucky slumped against the wall shakily, his knees going weak under the affection. He still wanted to be fucked, hard and rough _if_ Steve would have him, but at the same time, something about Steve’s gentle words of praise make him feel lightheaded with pleasure. The other man’s unabashed admiration made his body warm with happiness, his heart fluttering. “Stevie-” he started, his hands moving to tug impatiently at his slacks. “Y-yer gonna make me cry.” Bucky smirked, shuddering in pleasure as the sensation of Steve’s tongue licking a hot strip up his bicep flooded his body.

Steve kissed his way back up Bucky’s neck, catching his jaw and pressing their mouths together in a heated kiss. He broke it, staring at Bucky hungrily through his long, thick lashes. “You’re gorgeous.” He insisted again, before the hand resting on his waist guided him to turn and he eased his hips back against the bed. “You still want this?” He asked softly, his touch going light as he stroked the younger man’s cheek tenderly.

Bucky offered him a warmly affectionate smile and he reached up, pulling him down into a gentle kiss. “Absolutely.” He murmured resolutely, and his breath caught in his throat as Steve eased him back, dropping him down onto the mattress.

Steve smirked, his eyes darkening almost predatorily. “Good.” He growled, stripping off his own slacks, dragging his boxers off with them.

Bucky froze, staring, slack jawed. Bucky had had plenty of experience with dicks before, but Steve’s had to be the prettiest he’d ever seen. It was fucking perfect. He needed it. _Desperately_. A little whine escaped Bucky’s lips as he stared, feeling his erection still straining in the confines of his boxers. “Steve…” he breathed, tearing his eyes away as Steve moved forward. In one, easy movement, Steve was on top of him, his body braced over him possessively. He shifted forward, smirking down at him, a glint of excitement lighting his clear blue eyes.

"Don’t worry," He murmured, bending down to close his teeth over Bucky’s ear. He teased at the cartilage for a moment, sucking on it before releasing, nuzzling in close so that his breathe warmed Bucky’s skin. "I’m gonna take good care of you…" He breathed. "Gonna make you feel so good…take you rough if you like-" The brunet gasped softly, arching his back a little with a whine of pleasure, and _fucking hell-_ Bucky had always seemed so dominant and controlled before, but now, laying under Steve as he was, he was the prettiest sub in the world. Damp spots had begun to darken his boxers as his precum began to soak the fabric. His cheeks were flushed red, and Bucky’s plush lips were wet with anticipation.

"Please-" he panted roughly, arching up, pressing his hips to Steve’s, only a flimsy layer of cloth separating them. "Please-" he begged again. "Hard- Steve I want you. Please fuck me hard I- I want you to make me scream."

Steve swallowed, his cock beginning to ache. The only touch he’d received was Bucky’s hips pressing against his own and that hadn’t been nearly enough. He wanted to fuck Bucky, bury himself to the hilt in his perfect ass. He wanted to feel all that amazing friction as Bucky clenched around him.

Steve surged forward, pulling Bucky’s hips roughly off the bed and dragging his boxers off, pulling his legs around his waist.

Bucky yelped in surprise as Steve dragged him forward, his legs suddenly forced wide. Bucky moved willingly, drunk with pleasure as Steve pulled his back up off the mattress, holding him close to his bare, heaving chest, Bucky’s muscular thighs wrapped around his waist. He kissed him hungrily, and Bucky felt him reach back, blindly fumbling for the supplies in his nightstand drawer.

Bucky’s mind had gone hazy with pleasure, his brain filled with static and white noise. Steve’s mouth on his was the only sensation that mattered, right up until he felt a slicked index finger press against his ass. Bucky gasped in pleasure, Steve swallowing the noise in a kiss as he rubbed in soothing circles around the tight bud, relaxing the muscle, working into his entrance. Bucky groan, his head falling back. “S- Ste- Steve- fuck-” he gasped, feeling the tip of his finger breach his entrance, working into him slowly, gently.

Steve smirked, feeling warmth bubbling in his chest at the effect his fingers were having on Bucky. He coaxed him open, a little bit at a time. One finger, then two. A cry of pleasure. A bitten off moan. Steve laid Bucky back again, working a third finger into him and watching in enraptured silence as Bucky’s body stretched around his fingers. He was hot, and tight, his muscles constricting around his fingers and he slid all three in as deep as they would go, spreading them experimentally.

Bucky yelped, practically crying with frustration, his cock leaking against his hardened abs. “D-dammit Steve if you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna come before I ever get you inside me.” He stammered testily, rolling his hips down and fucking himself deeper on Steve’s fingers.

A strangled gasp escaped Steve as Bucky fucked himself back on his fingers, and as much as he though he could watch that forever, the ache in his cock was bordering on physical pain, and Bucky had been very clear about what he wanted. He slid his fingers out of the other man’s body, leaving him gaping and empty at the loss. The cut of contact made Steve feel suddenly inpatient, and cold. Hurriedly, he tore one of the condoms off of the end of the strip and ripped it open, rolling it easily onto his cock. Bucky watched, panting with anticipation, staring greedily as he lubed along his shaft.

Steve pause for a moment, staring down at Bucky, naked, all open and spread out for him; _just_ him. He was perfect. Steve shifted forward, slowly, teasingly, a dangerous smirk playing on his mouth. Bucky shuddered under his touch as he lifted his hips off the bed and settled his thighs around his waist. “Yes?” Steve purred, asking his confirmation once more as the blunt tip of his cock pressing against Bucky’s prepped hole.

The younger man met his gaze, flushed, and panting, pink with anticipation. “Yes sir, _officer_ …” He drawled, his sinful lips forming the words silkily, the sound of his low, teasing voice going straight to Steve’s cock.

Steve bit back a moan, closing his teeth down on his damp lower lip to muffle the noise. Bucky was going to have him completely unraveled, there was no doubt about that. Slowly he eased forward, Bucky’s tight rig of muscle initially resisting him. The young man muffled a cry, his fingertips digging into Steve’s shoulder, gripping as he stabilized himself. Steve pushed against his reluctant entrance and he suddenly gasped in pleasure as it gave, allowing the head of his cock to slide into Bucky’s body. God, the heat was amazing! He was tight, clenched around Steve’s dick with a kind of pressure and suction that could drive Steve insane.

"God Bucky," he panted, rolling his hips forward to gently ease himself a little further in. "God- y- you’re perfect," Steve breathed, pressing closer, working his mouth over his throat with a firm, wet pressure.

Buck curled forward, whining needily as he gripped Steve’s bare shoulders, rolling his hips down further. “Harder-” he begged weakly, clutching Steve close to him, desperately soaking in the touch. “Harder- Steve- I need-”

Steve shuddered at Bucky’s eagerness, moaning in pleasure as he rolled his hips down, pushing Steve deeper. He was suddenly reminded of having Bucky straddling his lap in the cell, rolling his sinful hip against him, teasing his cock with slow, sinuous movement. Steve made a mental note that they _had_ to try Bucky riding him, he _needed_ to feel what that was like with his cock seated completely inside him. But for now, this was perfect.

The blond officer’s movements grew more forceful and he began taking Bucky with short, rough thrusts, pushing deeper with each one.

Bucky gasped, his finger’s digging into Steve’s shoulder hard enough to leave bruises. He could feel Steve’s cock stretching him wide, burning and aching as he thrust into his body. With one more thrust he felt Steve’s thighs smack against his ass, his cock buried completely inside him, filling him up, stretching him until he ached.

Grabbing roughly at Bucky’s thighs, Steve drug his hip up closer against him, lifting his lower body off the bed and forcing Bucky’s legs over his shoulders. Bucky yelped at the change of position, but an exhilarated smirk spread over his features. Steve ran his hands down Bucky’s thighs, still for a moment as he knelt on the bed, Bucky’s body arched up against him, his cock buried to the hilt inside the other man. He stared down at him, Bucky meeting his gaze with eagerness, and trust.

For a moment, he held the silence before Bucky’s expression phased with discomfort and he gave a needy little whine. “Please-” he gasped, blinking rapidly. “Please officer Rogers…”

That was all Steve could take. He reached out, curling one hand around Bucky’s cock, and the other gripping just above his knee, and snapped his hips forward. He intensity of the thrust dragged a cry of pleasure and pain from Bucky’s lips and he arched up off the mattress. Steve kept the pace, snapping his hips forward in full, vicious thrusts. He could feel Bucky rocking weakly against him, whimpering and crying in pleasure as Steve fucked him into the mattress. His hand matched the pace of his thrusts as he slid his palm along Bucky’s cock, gripping and twisting, smearing his milky precum down along the length of his shaft.

"Steve!" Bucky screamed, gripping helplessly at the sheets as Steve slammed into him. The older man gripped his thighs, dragging Bucky deeper as he cock hit his prostate sending a shock of pleasure through his trembling body. He arched, crying out as his hands tightened in the sheets.

The blond looked down, for a moment, concerned, before he saw the look of absolutely wreaked pleasure written so plainly on Bucky’s features. He was panting, gasping, little rivulets of tears having traced their way into his hairline. His sinful red lips were pulled into a smirk, which faded and went slacks Steve thrust forward again. The movement coaxed a delicious cry from his lips and Steve smirk, knowing he’d found Bucky’s sweet spot.

"You like that?" He purred bending close and biting Bucky’s ear.

He stifled a cry, tipping his head back to expose the length of his pale throat. “Mmmmhh- y- yes I-”

"You want me to fuck you there? Hit your sweet spot until its raw? Make you scream?"

"Fuck-" Bucky whispered weakly, his eyelids fluttering helplessly, his words failing him.

Steve smirked at the reaction and drew back, suddenly slamming into Bucky so hard the other man screamed, arching off the bed, his cock leaking in Steve’s hand. Bucky didn’t even have a time to prepare himself before Steve thrust again, hitting his prostate with every thrust, sending wave after wave of painful pleasure through his body. He rocked helplessly against him as Steve fucked him into the mattress, his head hazy with pleasure. He arched his back, thrusting into Steve’s fist, feeling his hot hand around his sensitive skin, fisting his cock, bringing him closer.

"Steve-" Bucky babbled helplessly, his eyes squeezed closed as Steve’s teeth closed over his shoulder. "Ah! Fuck- fuck Steve I’m- please!" He begged, a scream tearing from his throat as the intensity of Steve’s thrusts suddenly increased, slamming into his ravaged prostate, stretching and burning as he worked into him.

Steve swallowed a moan, biting into Bucky’s shoulder a little harder than he probably should have, but Bucky pained little moans of pleasure were the fucking _sweetest_ thing he’d ever heard. Every rough thrust, ever bite and bruising grip had Bucky falling apart under his touch. He was undoing him, a touch at a time, and it was beautiful. Steve eased the in the bite, pressing kisses to the darkening ring as he slide his hand in quick, short stokes over Bucky’s cock, bringing him closer, smearing his precum over his shaft. The younger man was shaking, white-knuckling the sheets as he tried to match Steve’s pace, rocking back to push him deeper.

Bucky was lost to everything but the sensation of Steve fucking him open. His head was hazy with pleasure and desperation. Suddenly, Steve snapped his hips forward, jarring against his prostate once more and Bucky screamed in pleasure, shuddering violently as he came, squirting the hot, milky fluid over Steve’s hand, painting his own chest with streaks of cum.

The sound of Bucky’s wreaked scream nudged Steve over the edge and he doubled forward with a groan. He came inside Bucky, filling the condom as shudders wracked his body. He drew in a ragged gasp, his head bowed, forehead resting against Bucky’s collarbone as he gently eased his legs down from his shoulders.

"Steve…" Bucky panted, his muscles tingling with relieve as they were released from their unnatural position.

The blond officer held himself braced above Bucky, panting and gasping, his eyes closed as he came back down to earth. Slowly, he sunk down against him, ignoring the mess of his chest and hand, ignoring the fact that his softening cock was still seated inside him. He didn’t care. Bucky certainly didn’t seem to mind. Steve settled on top of Bucky, his hands running softly over his ribs and waist, mechanically stroking wherever he could reach. “God…” He breathed, gently rubbing at his trembling thighs as he kissed his neck and collarbone. “You okay?”

"Never better…" Bucky murmured in return, a little smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as Steve massaged feeling back into his legs, laving kissing over his throat. Steve concern was touching. It wasn’t something he was used to. _This_ wasn’t something he was used too. Not sex of course, that was something he had plenty of experience in. But _this_ , being treated like something of value, _that_ was something he didn’t know that he’d ever experienced before. Steve respected, and trusted him enough to give him what he’d asked for. He’d believed him when he said he’d wanted him to take him rough. But at the same time, he was so gentle…so compassionate. He’d checked on him when they were done, he’d confirmed his consent multiple times. Bucky wasn’t used to people care so much about his comfort before…usually, for him, it had been a mindless, emotionless fuck. He didn’t care; they didn’t care. But this was different. Steve was different, and Bucky wanted all of him.

The older man nuzzled his nose in under Bucky’s jawline, exhaling deeply, his hot breath ghosting over his throat. “You’re beautiful…” He murmured sleepily, his hands stilling on Bucky’s waist as he managed to pull out of him. Steve blindly stripped off the condom, giving it a half-hearted toss in the direction of the trashcan. Frankly, whether or not it hit it’s target couldn’t have mattered less to him at the moment. At the moment, all he wanted to do was lay here, with Bucky wrapped in his arms, his nose nuzzled under his jaw. He wanted nothing more. This was perfect. This was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaddya think guys? I can assure you that there's going to be more fun in store for the two of them, and don't worry, the handcuffs /are/ coming, but I figured that maybe that wasn't the best way to start them off. They need a little time to figure out what they like. ^^


	6. The Morning After Should be Sweet

Bucky didn’t know how it happened, nor did he care when he woke up the next morning in bed with the most _beautiful_ man he’d ever laid eyes on. They certainly hadn’t talked about Bucky spending the night, it had just sort of… _happened_. The last thing he remembered was Steve shifting off to the side so he wouldn’t crush him. Bucky had whined at the loss of his heavy, comfortable weight and the blond had smile warmly. He gently rearranging their position so that Bucky’s head was resting on his muscular bicep, curled into Steve’s warm embrace. The other man had shifted to his side, drawing Bucky into his chest and softly caressing his fingers along his ribs and spine. They’d exchanged a few murmured words, none of which Bucky could remember, and then he’d slipped into hazy, comfortable darkness.

It was morning now, and a gray, watery light was spilling through the bedroom window, bathing Steve’s sleeping face in a white glow. It seemed to pale his skin, making his blood red lips even sharper a contrast. The white light lit the gold highlights in his long, dark lashes, making them gleam distractingly as Bucky continued to study him. His hair was tousled over his forehead, sticking up in all direction, so unlike how neat it was always kept for his job. The man’s bare chest rose and fell evenly, the crisp white sheets tangled around his powerful thighs. He looked relaxed, and unguarded, for once, free of the anxiety that always seemed to darken his brow.

Bucky blinked his bleary eyes, smiling faintly as he shifted forward. Unable to help himself, the brunet pressed a tender kiss to the sleeping man’s lips, lingering on the soft skin, his eyes drifting closed.

Steve woke to the feeling of Bucky’s mouth pressed gently against his own and a tingle of warmth spread through his body. He could get used to waking up like this. Slowly, he shifted his position, one hand moving to gently cup the back of Bucky’s head, drawing him in closer. The other man gave a sleepy, contented, hum. Steve could feel his eyelashes softly kissing his cheekbones, brushing against his skin with feather light touches. 

At the sensation of Steve returning his kiss, Bucky moving in closer, letting one arm straying around Steve’s waist, coming to rest on the gorgeous curve of his lower back. 

Steve smiled into the kiss, shifting his weight to roll over Bucky’s body, his free hand stroking down his firm abdominal muscles. _God_ he was perfect. Steve didn’t think he’d ever been with someone who fit so perfectly into the curve of his body, whose personality was so effortlessly compatible with his own. He didn’t think he’d ever met someone who felt so incredible in his arms as Bucky did. It was like he belonged there. 

Steve’s gentle touch sent a stutter of warmth through his chest, and Bucky craned into the contact, lifting his hips against Steve’s, soaking up the affection that was being so freely given him. The officer’s body, warm from sleep, was pressed flush up against his own, and Bucky could feel Steve’s half-hard cock resting between his thighs. 

With a gentle touch, Steve eased Bucky back onto the mattress, pressing him into the soft padding and pushing in close so that Bucky would want for nothing. He broke the kiss for just a moment, nuzzling into the other man’s face as he exhaled softly, drinking in the feeling of Bucky’s breath on his lips, his body so completely unwound and relaxed below him. Steve couldn’t summon a single word to say, so he leaned in, capturing Bucky’s mouth in a tender kiss. He cupped his hands along his stubbly jaw, cradling his face affectionately as Bucky returned the kiss with a kind of lazy sweetness that had Steve sighing with content. Slowly, gently, Steve began to ease his hips against his, his hardening cock rubbing tantalizingly against Bucky’s. 

Bucky’s hands pressed into Steve’s side, a little gasp escaping him, and Steve shushed him softly, tenderly stroking his cheeks as his touch grew lighter still. Bucky didn’t think he’d ever had someone rut against him so gently. Usually, he pictured rutting as something rough, and filthy, meant for broom closets and the back seats of cars. To him it was an emotionless act; it’s what you did when you wanted to get off with a stranger without the commitment of a full round of sex. But not with Steve. No. With Steve it was different. His movements were so soft, and so tender, that it had Bucky’s entire body tingling with pleasure. It felt soothing, and intimate. His hands were gentle as he explored Bucky’s body, stroking his chest and sides, running his palms delicately over his bare thighs. He touched him like he was something good, something worth having.

The dark haired man felt his throat tightening and he pressing forward, pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder and clutching tightly around his neck.  He wasn’t used to feeling like this, to feeling like he was something of value. He knew it was stupid to want to cry, but Steve’s tender, almost loving touch had him teetering dangerously close to the edge. 

At the sensation of Bucky’s arms tightening around his neck, Steve made a soothing sound in the back of his throat, one hand coming up to gently rub at his shoulders while the other continue to stroke his thigh. He pulled back a moment, kissing his cheeks and the corners of his mouth. “Shhhh…” He hushed softly, his free hand coming up to card through his hair. “Relax…relax…” Steve whispered, and Bucky obliged, letting the tension slip out of his shoulder as the knot in his throat softened. He closed his eyes, relaxing, and letting Steve take care of him.

Slowly, he pushed the contact closer, rutting his hips against Bucky’s purposefully while still maintaining all the gentle tenderness with which he’d started out. Bucky moan softly, his body numb with pleasure as Steve softly stimulated his cock, rubbing his own against him, bringing him closer. It didn’t feel forceful, and desperate, like the building, almost painful orgasm Steve had brought him to the night before. It was gentle. Amorous. It made Bucky’s entire body tingle with warmth and pleasure. 

Steve dragged his hips along Bucky’s, his own cock fully erect. Like his companion, he knew he was close, but he wanted Bucky to come first. He wanted to watch his face go slack with pleasure as he brought him off so tenderly it made his head spin, so gently that the only thing he could think was Steve’s name.  

Bucky broke the kiss, his head tipping back weakly as Steve rutted sleepily against him. In a moment, the other man had moved to kissing his exposed throat, laving affection over the bared flesh. “Steve…” Bucky whispered breathlessly, his hands reverently stroking the back of his neck. “Steve-“

The officer hummed softly against his throat, and he felt Bucky’s body shudder underneath him. He drew back, just enough, just enough to stare with fervent attentiveness at the other man’s beautiful face, watching his perfect red lips part in a gasp of pleasure as he climaxed.

Hot wet streaks of cum painted their chests and Steve dropped his head, pressing into Bucky’s neck as he came with a soft moan. He shivered in pleasure, his load adding to the mess already splattered across their bodies. He stayed their for a moment, pressed against Bucky, panting softly, as his thumb rubbed reassuring circles against the back of his neck. “Bucky…” He murmured hazily, and he dimly registered Bucky’s hands shifting to cup his face.

The brunet drew him into a tender, passionate kiss, his eyelids fluttering closed as he indulged in the taste of Steve’s lips. “Steve…” He whispered, reverently, kissing him for a long moment before slowly dropping back against the pillows.

Steve stayed where he was, staring down at him. He was beautiful. His hair was tousled, his body was covered in cum, and he tasted like morning breath, but he was the most beautiful human being Steve had ever laid eyes on. Slowly, Steve drew away, despite a reluctant moan from Bucky. He lifted himself off the gorgeous brunet’s body, shifting across the mattress until he could reach the drawer of his nightstand. In a moment, he’d procured a package of wet wipes and he moved back over to Bucky’s side.

Bucky watched, silent, and smiling, as Steve pulled out a wipe, absently cleaning off his chest before removing a second one. His atmosphere shifted completely as he gently touched it to Bucky’s skin. For him, it had been a task, something to just get done. For Bucky, it had suddenly become much more intimate. His hands moved softly as he wiped tenderly at the mess of his chest, cleaning away their cooling essence, as well as the cum that had dried on his chest, that they’d neglected to clean up the night before. He soothed it away, changing wipes frequently, leaving Bucky feeling clean, and fresh. He felt…adored…

Bucky’s tongue slid out, wetting his lips, as he looked up at Steve shyly. “You sure know how to show a guy a good time.” He whispered huskily, his skin tingling with warmth wherever Steve touched him. He didn’t _ever_ want that feeling to go away. 

Steve pause before dropping his head with a small smile. He tossed the last used wipe at the trashcan, sinking down beside Bucky once more. Absently, he ran his fingers over Bucky’s now clean chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, and the hardness of his muscles. “I try to be good to my partners.” He said, leaning in to softly kiss Bucky’s cheek. Steve knew Bucky had no illusions that he had been Steve’s only one, and Steve knew full well that Bucky had had sexual partners before him. But it didn’t matter; the past was the past.

Bucky sighed, turning in against Steve’s affection. “Well you’ve certainly done a good job,” He murmured, going weak as Steve kissed down his neck. “Gonna…” He sighed involuntarily. “Gonna make me go…fucking soft…” Bucky whispered, closing his eyes. 

"Hhhmmmm…" Steve hummed quietly, working back up to Bucky’s jaw and he shifted his weight over his once more. "It’d be good for you…" He murmured, gently catching his mouth in a long kiss. 

Bucky savored the kiss, leaning in to it. He didn’t care how long it was, it was enough just to have Steve’s mouth against his own. Slowly, he dropped back, resting back on the pillows and staring up at him. A strange look had stolen over his expression as his eyes locked on Steve’s face, studying him.

Steve shifted, still close enough to feel Bucky’s relaxed breath on his lips. He gave a nervous smile, suddenly feeling oddly shy under his gentle scrutiny. “What?” Steve asked, his fingers playing nervously through Bucky’s hair.

Bucky didn’t answer him for a moment, his head tipping slightly to the side as his warm gray eyes soaked in his appearance. “Nothing…” He said softly, parting his damp, red lips. “It’s just…I love you…”

The words hit Steve like a punch to the chest, adrenaline suddenly flooding his system as his anxiety spiked. He yanked back, suddenly shaking, feeling scared, feeling sick. Nausea twisted his stomach as he scrambled back, trying to distance himself from the other man.

"Steve?" Bucky asked, an edge of fear entering his voice, because in a moment of optimistic naivety he couldn’t imagine that it was a reaction to what _he_ had said. "Steve what’s wrong? You okay?" He rolled forward on to his hands and knees before scrambling out of bed after him, his heart in his throat.

"No," Steve said shortly, feeling like he was going to hurl, his gaze snapping feverishly around the room. 

"Steve! _Talk to me,_ what’s going on." Bucky demanded, stumbling on the edge of Steve’s rug and nearly falling against him. He reached forward, cradling the back of his neck in his palms. "Please, let me help. " He said breathlessly, pressing closer.

Steve startled at the touch, shaking him off almost violently. “No. No, Bucky- Y- you need to go.” He stammered, pushing past him to grab the younger man’s clothing off the floor. 

"What?" Bucky asked, his voice cracking in disbelief as a feeling of sickened horror began to writhe in the pit of his stomach. He stumbled back as Steve pushed a hastily snatched bundle of clothing into his arms, pushing him back a pace. 

"Please- Bucky, just go. I can’t- I-"

"NO!" Bucky snapped, his voice betraying him as it broke weakly. "No, You’ve _got_ to explain this to me! You can’t just- I thought-" He babbled, as Steve grabbed his shoulder, his grip firm, without being painful as he pushed him towards the bedroom door. 

"I know!" Steve said his tone wrecked as he shoved Bucky out of his room, the younger man stumbling towards the stairs. "I know- I’m sorry, I can’t- Please, Bucky I can’t do this, just go." He begged.

Bucky practically tripped down the stairs, his gaze locked on Steve as a sickening feeling of betrayal tried to force it’s way out his throat. Somehow, in the haze of hurt, and confusion, Bucky managed to free his jeans from the messy knot of clothing in his arms, staggering as he yanked one leg on. He could see Steve pace madly, his expression just shy of panicked as he gripped his fingers through his hair. Bucky’s stomach plunged sickly, staring in horror as Steve turned, seeing that he’d managed to get into his jeans.

He pulled open the front door, and hand on Bucky’s shoulder as he pushed towards the entrance. “I’m sorry.” He said shortly, swallowing hard as Bucky stumbled numbly onto the front steps, most of his clothing still clutched in his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please-” Steve murmured feverishly as Bucky stared at him with open hurt and betrayal. The expression felt like a physical blow, and Steve stepped back, clutching the doorknob for support. “I- I can’t, I’m sorry.” He whispered, giving a tight shake of his head before abruptly closing the door.

Steve pulled away, feeling heartsick, his chest aching, stomach twisting in knots. He was a terrible person. He should have never let that happen, he should have never let Bucky think- made him _feel_ \- Steve suddenly found himself choking on a sob, and he swallowed it back, the effort making him feel as though his chest was going to explode. God this was so fucked up. He _wanted_ him. He wanted him so badly that it hurt, that _everything_ hurt, because he knew he _couldn’t_. Steve knew he couldn’t let Bucky love him cause it would kill him in the end. Steve knew what that was like. He knew how that felt. He wouldn’t wish that on _anyone_ , least of all Bucky. 

He rested his shaking body against the counter, his anxiety wracking him with shudders. He’d cut himself out of Bucky’s heart because he knew Bucky loved him.

And the most fucked up thing about it? Steve loved him too.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Bucky stood on the front steps, the sound of the slamming door still ringing in his ears. He had no words left. Nothing. It was all emotion. Bucky had been dumped before, he’d be hurt, and double crossed, cheated on, and abandoned, but never once in his entire life had he ever felt so utterly _used_. 

Steve had used him, and Bucky had fallen along right after it. At first, he’d though Steve wanted exactly what he’d wanted: a little cheep entertainment. Teasing. Flirting. An easy fuck. Something simple, something…emotionless. Then Bucky had started vying for his attention. They’d talked, they’d spent time together, however odd the circumstances. Then Steve had treated him so gently, spoken to him with kindness and concern, patched his injuries with warm, gentle hands. Then Bucky gotten attached. He’d been desperate for his touch. He’d been rejected. Bucky should have stopped there. He should have known that that was it, but no, he’d had to pursue it. And now, after apologizing, after kissing Steve and spending the night with him, Bucky had stared at him in the soft morning light after Steve’s had touched him with such affection and tenderness, and realized he’d fallen _completely_ in love with him.

But Steve hadn’t.

Slowly, he backed away from the door, he clothing clutched to his chest as he stumbled down the stairs. Nausea churned in his stomach, and Bucky felt his throat closing. He gave a miserable little choke as tears stung his eyes, slipping from the corners of his eyes down his cheeks, still warm from Steve’s touch. He felt dirty…filthy… _used_.

He felt utterly betrayed, and utterly disposable. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAaaaaannnnd Everything's ruined!


	7. Late Nights, Red Eyes

His throat ached. The sobs that had wracked his body for hours had ripped his throat ragged, his eyes stinging from the tears he hadn’t been able to quell. This wasn’t supposed to happen…He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him. He wasn’t supposed to use him the way he did. It wasn’t supposed to hurt this bad. So why couldn’t he stop crying? If he’d been rejected and used so many times in the past why did it still hurt?

The answer was simple, because for the first time, Bucky had really thought it could work.

The bitterness that the optimistic sentiment brought with it twisted inside Bucky’s gut like a rusty shiv, and he curled in on himself tighter, a soft moan escaping his chapped lips. He felt like he’d been crying for weeks, and at this point he’d lost track. He knew somehow, that he’d managed to end up at his own apartment, although how he’d managed it, still reeling from the shock and heartbreak, was beyond him. He didn’t remember pulling his shirt on over his head or shoving his socks and boxers into the back pockets of his jeans. He didn’t remember walking to where he car was parked a block or so from Steve’s house and driving home. It was a miracle he hadn’t crashed and killed someone…

That had been in the early morning. But it was late now. The living room had grown dark around him, leaving him lying, curled up in a miserable ball on the couch, heaving with sobs, his chest tight, and aching. He remembered little of the day through the hazy of pain. It seemed everything was blurred by the feelings of helpless misery and hurt. He did remember one thing though. He remembered, for a short while, that he’d tried being angry. He’d screamed, and cursed, broken glassware, but it only made it worse. The screaming made his throat ache, and the shattered glass left him with nothing but a lacerated palm and one less dish to wash. He’d given up. The shock had faded, and the anger only made him hurt worse, so Bucky had given up, and cried.

Since then, he’d been curled on the couch, gritting his teeth until his jaw throbbed as he tried to muffle the awful, wrenching sobs that tore from his ragged throat. How could he have been so _stupid_? How could he have thought someone like Steve could really love him? He was nothing. He was a filthy, used _thing_ ; flirting with anything that breathed in a pathetically optimistic attempt to garner some form of affection. Bucky had even grown to be satisfied with temporary attention, with lust, with the hungry stare of a stranger from across a smoky bar. He knew they didn’t want anything more from him than his body, but at least they _looked_ at him. That’s all he’d wanted, just for someone, _anyone_ , to look at him.

And then he’d let himself think that _just maybe_ Steve had wanted him for more than that. So of course he’d fallen for him. Of course he had…

_Fucking stupid._

Bucky squeezed his eyes closed, the salty tears burning as they traced through the raw patched of skin at the corners of his eyes. Bucky had scrubbed his face ragged with the heels of his hands, trying to quell the hurt, and stifle the tears, but it had only made them hurt worse. He wanted to scour them away, like he wanted to scour away the feeling Steve’s hands had left behind on his body. A whimper escaped him as he choked back a sob, his skin burning from where Steve had touched him. The sensation that he had wished, hours before, would never fade away, was now plaguing him like an open sore.

Every time Bucky closed his eyes, he could see Steve smiling at him, gentle, and affectionate. _Deceitful_. As much as he wished it, Bucky was unable to suppress the memories of Steve’s warm, steady hands searching his naked body. He could feel his finger’s tracing the length of his spine, brushing over his lower back, and gripping his ass. He could feel his hand sliding lower, pushing to open him up, relaxing his body so that he could take him with such controlled force. Use him. Throw him away.

Bucky choked back a sob, but Steve’s face kept seeping through the cracks of his mind, creeping into unwelcome places, summoning images of kind blue eyes; feelings of soft lips, and gentle hands. The brunet curled in tighter on himself, his hand finding its way feverishly under the collar of his shirt. With a deep press, Bucky found the painful ache he’d been seeking, his fingertips prodding at the ring of teeth marks left behind between his neck and shoulder. He’d practically begged Steve to leave them there, squirming and keening in pleasure as the other man’s teeth had sunk into his flesh, bruising, and breaking blood vessels under the skin. He dug his fingers in, hissing at the pain it sent flooding through his body. The mark was bold, and obvious, a segmented ring of dark purple and red marks, bruised onto his soft flesh; a brand. He pressed harder.

The pain served him right. Served him right for trusting Steve, for falling for someone who could do so much better. It served him right for believing he could really be loved, and for letting himself be claimed, marked, by someone who couldn’t possibly want him. He deserved to hurt for that. 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Word blurred together in front of Steve’s eyes. He’d been staring at the same page for over an hour, and he hadn’t read a single word, or, more correctly, he’d read the page three or more times, but the words washed over him, leaving him bare and aching. Every time, his burning eyes scanned the page, and every time their meaning escaped him. He couldn’t focus.

It was past midnight. He wasn’t even supposed to be here today. Steve had called in to Fury a mere hour after he’d thrown Bucky out of his life. An hour had been all it had taken to drive Steve about out of his head with pain and guilt. He tried to tell himself that it was better this way, that he’d be better off, that Bucky would be happier in the end, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe it. How fucked up was it that he was trying to save Bucky a heartbreak by breaking both their hearts?

From the moment he’d slammed the door in his face, Steve had been tearing himself apart. He’d been moments away from trying to find Bucky in the phone book on more than one occasion. More than once he’d stopped himself. Finally, he decided to put a call in to Fury, ask if there was anything he could do at the station, anything at all. He could work himself ragged, grind himself into the ground, forget about Bucky…if he could just forget about Bucky for one minute…Just one minute, chase the haunting image of his shattered expression from his mind; scrub from his memory the look of hurt bared on his vulnerable features.

But it hadn’t worked. His reports were shoddy, and made little sense; Bucky’s name crept, unwelcomed, into his writing, leaving him with smears of whiteout, and shaking fingers. His soft red lips haunted his mind, curled into a warm, trusting smile. He couldn’t shake it. He couldn’t chase Bucky from his mind no matter how hard he tried. But _god_ he wanted to. Steve desperately wanted to convince himself that he’d done the right thing, so why did the mere thought of closing his door in Bucky’s face make him feel nauseous? 

"Rogers?"

Steve’s head snapped up, swallowing back the guilt that had his head throbbing, and stomach twisting into knots. “Yes,” He said shortly, his voice breaking traitorously. Natasha stood in front of his desk; her expression neutral, although something in her calculating eyes seemed concerned. Steve wandered just how long she’d been standing there.

"Wanna tell me what’s going on?" She asked, her gaze boring into him, scrutinizing his battered expression. "You were supposed to be resting until tomorrow and yet you’ve been here all day. It’s midnight and you look like you’ve been grinding yourself into the dirt. What happened?"

Steve faltered at the direct question, his chest tightening as the obvious answer slammed into his mind like a blow. Bucky happened. Bucky swept into his life and he fell in love with him knowing full well that it was only going to hurt. He’d fallen in love with him, and then hurt him so that the pain wouldn’t kill Bucky in the end. Bucky happened, but Steve knew he couldn’t exactly leave it like that. 

"It’s…personal." Steve compromised, absently rolling his pencil along the packet of papers he’d tried so many times to read.

Nat studied him a moment longer before slowly easing her weight down on the desk, her expression softening. “Personal as in Bucky Barnes personal?” She asked, the sound of her low alto sending a shock through his chest as the words fell from her blood-red lips. 

Steve startled, looking up at her once more, shocked, and suddenly deeply uncomfortable. “What?” He asked, blinking rapidly. “Nat, how-“

Natasha shrugged mildly, “I watched your guy for forty eight hours before he could bail. We talked. He’s a good guy, Rogers.” She murmured, watching his expression tighten with pain.

"I know…" Steve murmured, dropping his gaze away. 

"So?" Natasha prompted, dropping one leg over the other and bending closer.

"So nothing. He’s a great guy, and it’s just gonna end ugly for him if we get involved…" He managed in a pained choke, not wanting to admit that it already _was_ ugly, and they already _were_ involved…or had been…

Natasha scoffed derisively, shooting Steve a steely look. “Come on Rogers, it’s not like you’re going to drop dead any time soon.”

Steve returned the look, his jaw set firmly. “Nat, I’m a police officer in a city with a high crime rate. It wouldn’t exactly be unlikely.”

"That doesn’t mean you have to push everyone out of your life." She replied curtly, her brow drawing into an agitated frown. Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Natasha slid off the desk, turning shortly to face him, her hair, sweeping easily away from her face. There was something deadly, and dangerous in her eyes the seemed to dare him to try and contradict her. Slowly, Steve closed his mouth, his chest tightening as the truth of her words sunk in.

"You’ve been doing this for as long as I’ve known you Steve." Nat said seriously, although her tone had lost its edge. "I watched it happen with Sharon. You _know_ it would have happened with Sam too if he hadn’t been reassigned. You _cared_ about them," She insisted, circling around his desk to stand over him. "They cared about you too…You’re allowed to have people love you Steve…You can’t shove everyone away…"

Steve’s gaze flickered up for a fraction of a second before he couldn’t stand to hold her gaze. He glanced away wordlessly, his throat closing up as he tried to hold himself together. 

Silence hung between them for a long moment before Natasha moved back, turning away. The clip of her neat black shoes fell on Steve’s ears, as he gaze remained rooted to the floor. The footfalls ceased near the door, quiet again for a moment before Natasha spoke. “Just…Think about it, okay Rogers?” She asked in a low tone.

Steve swallowed, lifting his head slowly. “Sure…Nat…I’ll think about it…” He murmured halfheartedly, wishing more than anything to be able to fall asleep, and fore a few hours, escape the guilt that plagued him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry guys. This chapter took me forever, and its short, and it sucks. Next one's gonna be better I promise...


	8. Caution to the Wind

It wasn’t because he couldn’t stop imagining his heartbroken expression.

It wasn’t because the memory of his broken voice, pleading an explanation, echoed in his head.

Steve convinced himself it was _pure_ ly curiosity that had him dragging Bucky’s arrest file out of the drawer. He told himself he was finding information for a follow-up report. He convinced himself he hadn’t pulled the file just to glimpse the mug shot photos snapped of him when he was brought in. In a tiny way, it helped; it helped to see an image of Bucky without that look of horror and betrayal seared onto his features. And at the same time, it made everything worse. Steve found himself paging through the file, the file _he’d_ written. It contained a report of the incident, as well as a space for documenting any trouble that a prisoner had cause. Steve had chosen to leave that space black despite Bucky’s attempt to seduce him upon their first meeting.

The thought caused a knot to from in Steve’s throat, his stomach twisting guiltily as he remembered the way Bucky had looked at him; all bright eyes and smirking lips. He’d been so open, so flirty and teasing…He’d grinned easily at him, his eyes dancing with excitement and mischief. The memory made Steve feel sick as he was suddenly accosted with the image of Bucky’s shattered expression staring back at him.

The file slipped from Steve’s numb fingers, and he startled, a hiss of frustration tearing from his lips as the papers slid and drifted all over the wooden floor. The blond officer dripped hurriedly to his knees, exhaling softly as he worked to gather the papers back up into the file. Suddenly, Steve hesitated, his fingers hovering over one of the spilled pages.

This piece of the file wasn’t in his handwriting. It was in Bucky’s. The other man’s messy, spidery, handwriting spilled across the page, filling the lines that requested his personal information.

Bucky’s home address was scrawled out for him in smooth black ink, seeming to egg him on, _daring_ him to take the second chance that had been spilled in his lap.

Steve swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as he stared down at the paper. It couldn’t hurt…just to know…just in case…He reached out, snatching up the paper and moving to his desk, leaving half the arrest report still spilled across the floor. Steve’s breath was coming fast, his piercing blue eyes scanning the page again and again so that by the time he’d snatched a working pen, he’d very nearly committed the address to memory. Still, Steve scratched the few lines down on the corner of his notepad, nearing the sheet out and staring at it, his stomach twisting uncomfortably.

For the last week he’d been consoling himself that he couldn’t _possibly_ change things now, that maybe Natasha had been right, but it didn’t matter, because he’d never cross paths with Bucky anyways. But now, now the chance had been dropped in his lap, and the thought of taking it, made Steve feel absolutely sick. On the other hand, if he didn’t, he might just loose the best thing that had ever happened to him…this time for good.

Drawing in a steadying breath, Steve folded the note in half, tucking it in his breast pocket. He didn’t need to make a decision immediately. But then again, maybe he did.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Steve felt like he was going to hurl. He sat back in the drivers seat if his car, his fingers curled around the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip. What the hell was he getting himself into…again…He’d already ruined every chance he could have _possibly_ had with Bucky, he’d made certain of that nearly two weeks ago, and yet here he was, parked outside of the address that he’d seared into his memory, two cups of lukewarm coffee nestled against the passenger’s seat.

He’d been here before. He’d bought two coffees, the gesture pathetically reminiscent of Bucky’s own apology weeks before. He’d driven to Bucky’s apartment, only to end up circling the block a time of two before loosing his nerve. Some days, he’d gone as far as to park at the end of the block, staring in nauseous apprehension at the house until he inevitably drove away with a groan of defeat.

Today, he’d parked directly in front of the little apartment.

After two weeks, he was _going_ to see Bucky again, whether it went well or not. Steve swallowed back the nausea that made his stomach roll, ensuring that he wouldn’t be able to stomach even a swallow of the coffee he’d bought for himself. Two blacks. Just like before.

Slowly, the officer reached over, lifting the two cups from their cardboard holder, and popping the drives side door open. Steve slipped from the car, grimacing as he looked down at himself, realizing his was still in full work uniform. He’d left the station in a bit of a haze, his mind flooded with indecision and anxiety at the terribly stupid thing he was about to do. But he was here now, he was here, and there was no turning back.

Steve’s feet carried him up the front steps of Bucky’s apartment, his stomach churning, his anxiety making his head throb, and his mouth to dry. But Steve had already let it get the better of him once. Potentially the best thing that had ever happened to him had been dropped into his lap, and he’d thrown it away. Now he had a chance to change the mess he’d made of he and Bucky’s relationship, and thought terrified him, but Steve would be damned if he didn’t take it.

The dissident buzz of the doorbell seemed muted by the ringing in Steve’s ears, by the blood rushing to pound through his skull. The officer’s hands were shaking as he readjusted his grip on the two travel cups.

"Hang on-"

Bucky’s voice jolted through Steve like an electric shock, the sound course through his body. He’d almost forgotten the sound…so low, and soft…it made the older man’s chest ache.

The door pulled open and Steve startled, his hands tightening involuntarily on the coffees. Bucky stood in the doorway, his dark chestnut hair clean, still dripping wet. He looked as though he’d hurriedly yanked on a pair of jeans, the fly still undone. His toned upper body was distractingly exposed, and Steve’s eyes caught guiltily on the fading outline of the bite mark he’d left on his shoulder. It was only a pale ring now, but it was just now disappearing after two weeks. If Bucky had been as hurt as he’d seemed by Steve’s rejection, the mark must have haunted him.

Little rivulets of water traced their way over Bucky’s tones body, sliding over his skin in thin trails. The beads of moisture soaked into the denim waistband of where his jeans rode low on his hips, exposing the lateral cut of his waist. The lines of muscle disappeared into his jeans, trailed by the line of soft brown hairs that traced their way down from just below his navel. He was just as stunning as Steve remembered.

Bucky stopped dead.

At the slight of the man on his doorstep, he abruptly paled, looking suddenly sick. He looked as though he’d taken a punched to the gut. Bucky yanked back away from the door, his eyes going wide as he gripped the end table by the door, seeking support, trying to ground himself. Steve had seen that look echoed back to him in the mirror, the look of having someone haunt your dreams for so long that, once they’re standing in front of you, you can’t be sure it’s real. 

"Bucky-" Steve said shortly, knowing he had seconds at best, seconds to make Bucky listen, to salvage the mess he’d made of their relationship. 

Bucky’s hand slid from the end table, the look of stunned, sick horror slipping away. The brunet’s expression twisted with hurt and disgust, and Bucky suddenly moved forward, grabbing the door aggressively.

"Wait-" Steve pleaded, jamming recklessly against the door, keeping it open with his shoulder as Bucky blinked rapidly, light glinting of the tears in his eyes as he tried to shove the door closed on him. 

"No." He choked, his voice breaking painfully, and the bitter nausea reared its head again. He’d done this to him. "No, _Get out!_ Go! I don’t _want_ you here!" Bucky snapped, hitting against the door as a helpless sob broke from his lips.

The two travel cups dropped heavily from Steve’s hands, hitting the front step as he reached through the door, suddenly seizing Bucky’s arm. “ _Please_ ,” Steve begged, as Bucky yanked against him, shaking his head. “Please, Bucky, listen, listen to me _please_!”

" _Let go!"_ He snarled, his aching fingers loosing their grip on the door as he tried to tear from Steve’s insistent hold. He hated himself. He hated himself for crying after all this time. It had been over two week, and the mere sight on Steve on his doorstep, staring at him like he hadn’t broken his heart, reduced him to a sobbing mess. He hated himself. He hated Steve.

The pressure of the door eased, and Steve nudged it aside, stepping over the coffee that was pooling and tricking between the boards of the front steps. Bucky was still trying to free his arm from Steve’s grip and he reached out, his hands gripping firmly over his upper arms, as he drew him close, his words, earnest, and desperate. “Bucky _please_ ,” He begged again, his heart stuttering in his chest as Bucky wrenched against him. “Please, _I’m sorry_ , Bucky I’m sorry, I’m _so_ sorry… _I’m so sorry._.”

A sob tore from Bucky’s throat, doubling him forward, his fist hitting weakly off of Steve’s chest as his words washed over him, bitter, and painful. “Shut up…” He choked roughly, his shoulder twisting feebly as his struggles grew weaker, his body going numb as Steve’s thumbs rubbed in gentle circles over his tense muscles. “Shut up…I don’t…y-… _no_ …”

Steve’s throat closed with pain and he drew Bucky’s shaking body against him. For a moment, Bucky shuddered, stiffening before another ragged sob ripped from his body and he slumped against him, his hands clutched around fistfuls of his shirt. Steve gathered him against him, cradling him close as he continued to choke out apologies, the words falling from his lips like a prayer. His hands found their way up to the dripping brunet locks, combing through the wet strands, as he whispered soft words of comfort in his ears. 

Bucky rested his weight against Steve’s chest, his body aching with a relief he did not want to feel as Steve’s hands carded softly through his hair, his words whispering over his skin. He didn’t want to feel safe, wrapped in his strong arms. He didn’t want to feel valued, and loved as he tenderly caressed his neck and arms. Bucky didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to let himself slip again, because in the end, Steve would prove him right, and it would hurt all the more. Bucky didn’t know if he could survive that kind of pain. 

He struggled back suddenly; Steve’s finger’s catching, and yanking at his hair as he ripped himself away without warning. “ _NO_!” 

Steve startled, his heart missing a beat as Bucky wrenched away from him, staggering back with a look of horror written on his features. His bare chest was heaving, eyes wild with fear.

"No! No I’m not gonna let you do this to me again!" He cried, a shudder passing through his body as he stumbled back apace. "Go! _Get out of here_!"

Steve moved forward, swinging the door closed behind him, as he approached Bucky, palms up in a nonthreatening gesture. “Please, Bucky, if you’ll just give me a few minutes-“

_"Leave me alone!"_

"Let me make this right!" Steve begged as Bucky continued to recoil away from him. 

"No! Don’t touch me! Don’t-" His voice broke painfully, fresh tear spilling down his cheeks, merging with the droplets of water the slid down his jaw from his dripping chestnut hair. "Don’t- I don’t want to hear it…You’ll…You’ll make me believe you…You’ll use me-"

"Bucky…" Steve whispered, his voice going drawn with pain. "No…no, no Bucky…I didn’t-" The words choked off in his throat as he moved forward slowly, Bucky standing against the wall, his eyes squeezed closed, jaw locked as he tried to stifle the sobs that shook him. Slowly, Steve reached out, his fingers brushing delicately along his jawline. Bucky flinched, turning his head away from the contact before freezing. "Bucky…" He breathed softly, moving to tenderly cup the other man’s face in his palm, and this time, Bucky didn’t flinch away. "God I fucked up so bad…"

Bucky’s eyes cracked open slowly, and he lifted his gaze, his stare echoing hurt, and betrayal as it bored into Steve. “Y’don’t think I don’t know that.” He hissed bitterly, but he didn’t turn his face out of the contact. He stood against the wall; Steve’s hand nestled along his jawline, his stare poisonous as he met his eyes, challenging him. 

"I know…" Steve whispered. He stroked his thumb tenderly across Bucky’s cheek, and his toxic stare faltered, his eyelids fluttering as he went weak under the contact. "I know…I didn’t…want to hurt you…"

The moment the words fell from his lips, Steve knew it was true, but it had also became apparent that Bucky didn’t believe a word of it. 

"Get. off."

Bucky spat the words like a curse, and Steve recoiled, his hand slipping from Bucky’s face. Bucky shoved past him, stalking towards the living room, hatred seeping from every pore of his body. “You didn’t want to _hurt_ me.” He repeated coldly, wheeling around. “You didn’t _want_ to _hurt_ me, yet you treated me like I was special, and then _threw me out_ the second I didn’t just want to be a sex toy for you.” The words stung like a physical blow, twisting Steve’s gut.

"Bucky, that’s not-"

"Isn’t it?" He countered bitterly. “‘Cause it was all fun and game until I said I had feeling for you, but then that was too much commitment _wasn’t it?"_

"No-"

"You can just say it, I already know! I was an just supposed to be easy fuck for you, someone you could screw over rough and dirty and then throw out, but I went off script _didn’t I_?" He snapped. "I was supposed to take it like a good little slut, say ‘ _thank you Officer Rogers’_ and disappear so you could get on with you’re life but I _didn’t_ , and you couldn’t handle the fact that I actually liked you!" Bucky’s voice broke and he stepped back a pace, his throat tightening as he tried to choke out the words, the words that had been haunting him, plaguing him since Steve had thrown him out on his doorstep. "Y’know, The most fucked up this about it is; and you’re gonna laugh-" He added as a side note, a bitter, hollow laugh tearing from his raw throat. "I _actually_ though you _wanted_ me."

Steve broke. He surged forward, grabbing Bucky’s jaw in his hands and captured his mouth in a deep, forceful kiss.

Bucky startled, his blood going icy as Steve’ drew him in, his hands firm, and possessive on his jaw, his mouth warm, and passionate against his own. He whimpered, choking into the kiss as his fingers curled into the front of his shirt. Bucky found himself torn between shoving him off and dragging him closer; between breaking his jaw, and feeling his protective arms around his shaking body. 

Steve held the kiss for a brief moment, feeling Bucky’s shivering, falling apart under the touch. He smoothed his hands softly over his cheeks, feeling the rough stubble, feeling the way his jaw worked as Bucky whispered softly into his mouth. Steve broke the kiss, nuzzling his nose in closer, caressing his cheeks with gentle hands. “I do…” He murmured feverishly, Bucky’s finger’s clutching feverishly at his shirtfront. “I do, I do, Bucky, I want you…I want you so bad…I fucked up…Bucky I _do_ want you… _please_ …” He whispered, pressing a short kiss to the corner of his mouth before turning Bucky’s head to kiss his cheek and brow, softly peppering his skin with little marks of affection. 

Bucky shuddered as his resolve weakened, his knees shaking as Steve immersed him in tiny gestures of affection. His lips were warm, and soft, leaving his face tingling as he brushed his mouth over every inch of skin he could reach. His hands caressed his neck, brushing through his damp hair, tugging softly at the tangles. Bucky’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he tried to form words, Steve’s gentle touch making his mind go numb, robbing him of every sense but what it felt like to have him touch him once more. 

"Why…" Bucky managed feebly, and Steve pulled back, cupping his jaw for a moment before nuzzling against his face again, kissing over his left eyelid. "Why did you…Steve-" He sighed, the man’s name slipping unwarranted from his lips. 

Steve hushed him softly, one hand sliding down to gently take his wrist. Still touching tender kisses to Bucky’s cheeks and forehead; Steve backed him up, gently easing him down so that they sat, knee to knee on Bucky’s couch. 

Bucky sunk down without protest, his eyes closed, head fuzzy from the affection, his body still reeling with confusion. Slowly, he blinked his eyes open, drawing back just enough for Steve to grasp the hint. The blond officer stopped, pulled away, although he allowed his hand to slide down Bucky’s wrist, gently grasping his hand. The burnet turned his gaze up, slowly meeting Steve’s clear blue eyes.

"Why’dya do that to me?" He asked in a soft whisper, his voice still carrying a note of hurt, despite Steve’s apologies and assurance. His eyes still reflected the pain, and betrayal he felt when Steve had thrown him out. "I thought…"

Steve dropped his gaze away, absently squeezing his hand, reminding himself that this was real, and he had one chance to make it right. “You’re gonna hate me for saying this…” He murmured, drawing in an uncertain breath. “But…I promise it’s the truth…I…though you’d be happier…in the end…I’d convinced myself that, it’d hurt less, if I let you go.”

Bucky frowned, and Steve felt his fingers twitch in his own, seeming to be teetering on the edge of seeking release. “That’s _stupid_ Steve.” He said, his words soft, but forceful, and Steve gave a short shake of his head.

"No- No Bucky, its not. I-" Steve faltered, his tongue sliding out to moisten his lips. Maybe this wasn’t the most tactful story to bring up at the moment, but it was the truth, and it was the only thing that would make Bucky see. He lifted his eyes again, his gaze imploring Bucky to listen, if he would only listen…

"Look," Steve started softly, his expression going uncertain, and shy. "When I was in college, I was going steady with this dame…Peggy…" He murmured, feeling Bucky’s finger’s flex in his own again, and he tightened his grip, silently begging for just a moment more to explain. "Peggy and I always said we were gonna get married…but that was always a ‘ _someday’_ plan, because I was graduating into the police force, and she was going over seas to be in the military."

Steve managed a little smile, absently brushing his thumb over Bucky’s wrist. “I was really proud of her…We wrote letters to each other all the time, kept each other updated on what was happening in our careers…One day, on the job, I took a bullet to the shoulder.” Steve snorted. “It hurt like hell, but all I could this was, ‘ _damn…what a great story, Peggy’s gonna kill me for getting myself shot._ ’”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Steve’s mouth, and Bucky watched him curiously, absorbing the story, trying to find the common thread. 

"After I got patched up, the first thing I did was write a letter, tellin’ all about how I’d tak’n a bullet to the arm…" The blond officer stopped, his expression suddenly falling, and a look of sickened grief washed over his face, seeming to gray his skin, age him a hundred years. He parted his lips, his words coming out weak, and feeble. "Two days after I sent my letter I found out Peggy had taken a bullet to the head…"

The words hit Bucky like a punch to the chest, and his hand instinctively clenched around Steve’s. He gripped the other man’s hand tightly, his gaze searching, words frozen in his throat. “Steve-” He managed softly, the word falling hollow in the silence of the room.

Slowly, Steve turned to face him, his gaze meeting his. “She lived.” He said softly. “The doctors saved her.”

But there was no smile. Steve’s expression remained gray with heartache, and Bucky knew at a core level that this wasn’t the kind of story with a happy ending.

Steve drew in a deep breath, giving Bucky’s hand a steadying squeeze. “She…stays in a long term care facility in Washington now, and, once in a blue moon…she even recognizes me…”

A soft noise of pity escaped Bucky’s lips as he took in the look of pain, and loss cut deeply into Steve’s features. There was a hollowness there that Bucky had never seen before. It hurt. It hurt to see him like this.

After a moment of silence, Steve met his gaze again, and a weak attempt at a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “She’s comfortable…” He said softly, “But she doesn’t know me…Not really…not anymore…”Steve murmured, before he resumed absently rubbing his thumb in small circles over Bucky’s wrist. “I knew going into the military was dangerous, but it had never occurred to me that something could actually happen to her…she was…untouchable…strong, she made an amazing soldier, I just always thought-” Steve voice wavered and he stopped abruptly, dragging in a deep breath through his nose. His eyelids closed, dark brown lashes feathering over his cheekbones.

"When I lost Peggy…" He started again, "I didn’t think it was ever going to stop hurting…and I was right." Steve murmured, lifting his gaze to Bucky’s. "It still hurts. Always will. I guess, after that, I decided…I didn’t want that to happen to anyone else…not over me…"

"You don’t think you’re worth it?" Bucky countered, his brow narrowing. Logic told him now wasn’t the time to be challenging Steve, because he was raw, and vulnerable after exposing a story like that, but Bucky couldn’t let him stand by and think he wasn’t worthy of love because he might hurt someone on his way out.

"No, "Steve protested, "It’s just-"

"I get it." Bucky said, cutting over Steve’s halfhearted explanation. "You got hurt, and it doesn’t go away, but you can’t control who loves you Steve. ‘Cause…I…want to be a part of you’re life…"Bucky admitted, suddenly almost sick with fear, because the last time he’d admitted how much he cared about Steve, he’d gotten his heart broken for his trouble. The dark haired man swallowed back the knot that was rising in his throat, trying to steady his hands with a gentle squeeze of Steve’s fingers. 

Gray eyes met blue and Steve felt his stomach give a nervous little flop, his heart stuttering in his chest at the way Bucky seemed to drink in the sight of him. He was staring, level, and even, his expression completely honest.

"Don’t freak out," He murmured with a wry smile, "But I want you. I wanna be with you whether something happens to you in the end or not." 

Bucky’s words seemed to echo in the quiet living room, and his chest began tightening, fear stirring up inside him the longer Steve was silent. His palms were going sweaty, his left hand still grasped in Steve’s. If this was the end of it, so be it. If Steve really didn’t want him close to him, then fine, but he _had_ to know. He _had_ to know that Bucky wanted him, and _would_ want him, right up until the end. 

Slowly, Steve freed his fingers from his, and with sickening reluctance Bucky relinquished them. His hand felt cold, a freezing sweat beginning to prickle across his skin. If Steve walked out his door now, then that was the end of it.

But, rather than pull away, rather than walk out the door, and leave him heartbroken again, Steve moved closer. His hand came up, cupping softly against Bucky’s face and drawing him in.

Bucky moved forward eagerly, the knot in his chest suddenly unwinding under Steve’s gentle touch. He sunk into the contact, closing his eyes, craning closer as Steve nuzzled tenderly against his lips, his forehead pressing against his. 

"Are you sure?" Steve murmured, his breath hot on Bucky’s lips as his free hand came up, carding through his drying hair. "Bucky…Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you…ever…intentionally or not..I…I want you to be happy…"

A little laugh tugged free of Bucky’s flushed lips, his body warming with pleasure as Steve gingerly stroked through his hair, his fingers caressing his cheek. “Rogers, I’d be happy if y’d stop hedgin’ and kiss me already.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Steve’s mouth curved into a warm, genuine smile. Bucky’s words sent a flutter of heat through his body and he suddenly pressed forward, his hands tightening reassuringly through his hair as he drew him into a kiss.

It was a little clumsy, and a little wet, and Bucky snickered into the kiss as Steve’s teeth clicked gracelessly against his, but it was perfect. Steve had thought he’d shoved Bucky away for good, and it had sat heavily in his chest as the worst mistake he’d ever made. And now he was his again. Bucky was his and Steve was determined that he was never letting go of him again. 

Steve leaned into the kiss, aching as he soaked in the comforting warmth that he’d been certain he’d snuffed out of his life. Bucky’s mouth was warm, and soft against his. His eyelashes kissed his cheeks in feather light touches that made Steve’s heart turn somersaults in his chest. 

Suddenly, Steve felt a tentative tug as Bucky’s hands came up, curling into the collar of his shirt. He pulled him forward, trying to ease his weight back on the couch. Steve blinked uncertainly, his lips parting from Bucky’s as the other man gave a soft little sigh of contentment. “Bucky?” Steve murmured, as he tugged him closer, pulling Steve’s weight over top of him as he sunk deeply against the cushions of the couch. Steve moved compliantly. He didn’t want Bucky to feel rushed. He didn’t want to push this too fast, especially after he’d come so close to loosing him; but Bucky was insistent.

"C’mon Stevie, Don’t get shy on me now," Bucky breathed, pulling him down into another soft kiss. A shiver of pleasure ran up Steve’s spine as Bucky’s fingers traced along the back of his neck, playing absently with his collar. The brunet pressed another tender kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth, nuzzling against his cheek. "Just want ya close…" He murmured. "S’all I want, just…"

Steve muffled the slurred whisper; pressing his mouth to Bucky’s soft, full lips, feeling him sigh into his mouth as he shifted the kiss deeper. He couldn’t imagine anything being more perfect then this. Just, this moment. Just, lying on top of Bucky on the couch, kissing him, stroking his hair, trying to translate in some way just how much Steve was glad he was his.

It didn’t take long for Bucky to go completely limp, and boneless beneath him, his body relaxed, his eyes closed trustingly. Steve took advantage of the moment to press light, tender kisses over his eyelids, gently brushing over them with his thumbs as he softly kiss the corners of his eyes, his temples, his nose. Steve’s lips brushed tiny, fluttering touches over his cheeks and jawline, pecking his lips and chin, as his hands stroked soothingly over his face and neck.

A deep, contented sigh escaped Bucky’s flushed lips, and he lifted one, numb arm, curling it around the back of Steve’s neck.

Steve chuckled warmly and, letting Bucky draw him closer, tucked his face into the joint of his neck and shoulder. He breathed in his scent, warm, and damp, the smell of his shampoo and soap lingering pleasantly on his skin. The musky, woody smell of his body wash filled Steve’s nostrils, and he let his eyes drift closed, indulging in the intimacy.

"Stay?" Bucky whispered, his arms tightening around Steve’s neck and shoulder, holding him close. He had ached for Steve’s affection just as much as Steve had ached for his.  Now that he had him here in his arms, he couldn’t imagine letting him go.

Steve paused a moment, moving to lift his head, and Bucky complied, loosening his hold just enough to let him look him in the eyes. He studied his companion’s expression, curious, and searching. “You want me too?” He asked softly, his breath warm on Bucky’s lips, and the other man’s mouth curled into a smirk.

"Course I do," He murmured, the words rumbling in his chest. "I’ve…missed you."

At the hesitant confession, Steve faltered. Of course he’d know, but, hearing Bucky say it, that was something entirely different. Steve wasn’t used to being missed. He certainly wasn’t used to being missed by someone as incredibly as Bucky. But the fact remained that Bucky _wanted_ him. He was _asking_ him to stay. How could he refuse?

 Steve caught Bucky’s mouth in a soft kiss, holding it for just a moment before pulling back with a soft sigh. “I’ve missed you too…” He breathed, before his lips curled into a smirk and he gave Bucky’s lower lip a playful nip. “So, since I don’t have plans tonight…”

"You do now," Bucky countered, suddenly dragged Steve back down, crushing their mouths together, and any reservations Steve had still clung to suddenly spiraled out of his mind as he fell head over heels for Bucky all over again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, we're making progress here! Hang in there for me guys!


	9. Cuff Me

Dinner was a quiet affair, punctuated by only a few murmured words between them. Steve didn’t know exactly how to go about showing Bucky how glad he was to have him back, and he didn’t have the words to express to him just how sorry he was for the mistakes he’d made, but he was willing to try anything, if he could just make him understand. Steve needed him to know how much he loved him, how grateful he was for his presence in his life. So he kissed him. He held Bucky’s hand under the table. He stared at him, soaking in every facet of his face; from the little creases at the corners of his eyes to the graceful bow of his perfectly curved lips.

When Bucky would catch the officer staring, his soft red mouth would pull up at the corners, curling into the smile that set Steve’s stomach exploding with butterflies. A gentle shove, a teasing comment, a tender kiss, and they’d resume eating. They sat in silence, finger’s laced together under the table as both men began to tentatively accept the reality of their situation. They were together.

Bucky began to slowly lower his walls. He let Steve’s soft words and tender kisses sooth away the hurt that had churned inside him for weeks. He allowed himself to forgive Steve in bits and pieces. A gentle brush of his thumb along the pad of his hand would coax forgiveness for shouting. When Steve pressed his lips to the cap of Bucky’s bare shoulder he forgave him for pushing him out. A murmured ‘I love you’ soothed away the hurt left behind by the door slamming in his face. Little by little, the sounds of Steve’s rejection ceased to echo in his ears, replaced now by his murmured words of assurance and love.

Steve treated Bucky with the utmost tenderness. He kept his movements slow, his words soft, and gentle. He kissed him whenever he had the chance, brushing his lips over his cheeks, and the back of his neck, and the caps of his shoulders. He feathered kisses over his temples, eyelids, and nose, pressing his lips to his jawline and neck. The kisses were innocent, and tender, allowing him to immerse him in the affection Bucky so wanted and deserved. He wanted Bucky to feel safe. Steve wanted him to be comfortable. He wanted him to feel loved.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Warm, sudsy dishwater swirled around Bucky’s wrists as he scrubbed the dishes and pans that had gone into the making of dinner. The pads of his fingers were beginning to pinch, and wrinkle from being submersed for so long, and the water was turning murky.

Bucky’s hands stilled on the dishes as he felt Steve’s warm breath on the nape of his neck. The officer’s starched blue uniform shirt rubbed against his bare back, his badge scrapping his exposed skin lightly. Bucky was suddenly quite glad that he hadn’t bothered to properly dress.

Steve’s firm, muscular arms slid around Bucky’s waist, tucking against his sides as he lowered his hands into the murky water. His searching fingers found the rag curled in the other man’s hand and he pried it gently from his grip. With his chin nestled in the crook of Bucky’s neck, he set to cleaning the last of the dishes.

A little smirk pulled at the brunet’s red lips, his gaze darting, sidelong at the officer. “You’re…suspiciously helpful…” He drawled, his lips drawn as he tried to stop smirking long enough to look suspicious.

"Mmhhh…" Steve hummed his response, lifting one of the dishes into drainer before pressing a loving kiss to the side of Bucky’s neck. "I think I own you a little dish help…" He responded softly, his hands still cleaning dutifully as his kissed a little closer to the front of Bucky’s throat.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, but his voice wobbled weakly as Steve’s lips found his pulse, pressing over it warmly.

The blond pressed the tip of his wet tongue against Bucky’s pulse point, knowing the pressure make him weak at the knees. He slid the last plate absently into the drainer and placed his still dripping hands over the lateral cut of Bucky’s hips, fingers splaying over the sharp, downward ‘v’ of muscles.

Bucky shuddered, feeling beads of moisture trace over his skin, Steve’s palms warm, and wet against his hot flesh.

"What ever you want." Steve breathed, dragging his open mouth tantalizingly up his neck, his parted lips coming to rest over the shell of his ear. "Just say the word; anything you want I’ll do. Dishes, or otherwise."

The teasing nudge coaxed a little laugh from Bucky, and he let himself relax into Steve’s arms. His eyes drifted closed, his chest fluttering with warmth and content. “Y’mean that?” He murmured, his voice low, vibrating through Steve’s bones. “I say jump, you say how high?”

"Just until I make up all the crap I put you through…"

"Might take a while…" He warned him, although truthfully, Bucky was finding it harder and harder to summon any ill-feelings towards Steve, even past feelings. At the moment, wrapped in his arms, with his lips feathering kisses against his neck, Bucky could hardly remember what it felt like to have his heart broken. He knew that might not last, that in time it would come back, and become an obstacle in he and Steve’s relationship, but he was also confident that, when the time came, it would be an obstacle they could overcome. Still, for right now, it might be kind of nice to have Steve at his beck and call.

Steve nuzzled his nose in under Bucky’s ear, tenderly kissing the soft spot behind it. “I know…” He murmured, his voice tinged with an unspoken apology. “I know…let me do this though…tell me what I can do, to help you, make you happy, help you trust me…anything you want…” The words whispered over Bucky’s neck as Steve’s hands slid from his hips, wrapping around his lower chest in a warm embrace.

"Cuff me."

The words fell from Bucky’s lips before the thought had even completely run through his mind, and in a second, he knew it was _exactly_ what he wanted.

Steve’s movements stilled completely. He seemed shocked. He seemed to be doubting whether he had heard him correctly. “Wh-” he started uncertainly.

Bucky turned in his arms, squirming around until his bare chest was pressed against the front of Steve’s navy blue shirt. He met his eye, his voice going clear, and determined. “ _Cuff me_.” He repeated, suddenly reaching up to curl his fingers into the collar of his dress shirt. The dark haired delinquent drew the officer down against him, his blood red lips ghosting across his. “Order me around,” Bucky breathed. “Take me how you want me, and _make_ me behave.”

Steve paused for just a moment, his clear, honest blue eyes met Bucky’s steely grays; hooded, and determined. He eased forward, his expression still soft, as he stroked his fingers lightly down Bucky’s spine. “You sure that’s what y’want?” He asked gently, his gaze searching his with a kind of tenderness that made Bucky’s knees go weak.

"Yes-" he said, the word cut short by a needy little whine as his fingers tightened in Steve’s collar.

"And you’ll tell me if I’m hurtin’ you? If I do _anything_ you don’t like?" Steve murmured softly, his hands smoothing over Bucky’s skin with all the love and affection in the world.

An honest to god _keen_ of frustration escaped Bucky’s throat, his fingers tugging impatiently at his collar. “Yes,” he gasped, “officer, _please_ -“

Steve’s atmosphere flipped like a switch, his grip suddenly tightening roughly on his waist. In one quick, forceful movement, Steve dragged Bucky away from the counter. His muscled flexed powerful as he manipulated Bucky’s body like a toy, thrusting him down, face first, against the table, the remaining dishwater jarring on the impact. “Hands behind your back.” Steve hissed, his breath hot against Bucky’s ear, his erection pressing against his tailbone through the material of his slacks.

Bucky felt a surge of excitement, his body thrumming with desire. The brunet shuffled his position hurriedly. It was no easy task, not with Steve’s hands still pinning him roughly to the table. Bucky’s cheek dug into the wood grain of the dinner table, his vision blurred as his right eye was pressed closed. Finally, he managed to manipulate his hands behind him.

One hand lifted away, the other still pressing between his shoulder blades as Steve reached behind him, unhooking his cuffs from his belt. Earlier that day he could have kicked himself for not changing into something normal before he showed up on Bucky’s doorstep in a guilty haze, but now, he was actually quite thankful he hadn’t changed into civilian clothes. Everything he needed was right at his fingertips. In one, swift movement, Steve clapped the cuffs around Bucky’s wrists, tightening the bands enough to bite his skin without cutting off his blood flow.

"Gonna arrest me _officer_?" Bucky panted, his voice slurring, thick, and cocky. He was asking for trouble and he knew it.

The older man paused a moment, before pressing against him, his hips flush against Bucky’s ass. With one hand still holding him to the table, he rolled his hips forward, allowing Bucky to feel the obvious bulge in his pants. The movement elicited a tiny, bitten off gasp from his partner and Steve’s lips curled into a smirk. He began grinding his hips against Bucky’s ass, rolling and shifting against his body in slow, sinuous movements. He bent at the waist, until his upper body rested against Bucky back, his mouth once again rested against the flushed shell of his ear. “Oh I’ve got other plans for you…” He purred, a thrill of pleasure running through him as Bucky trembled helplessly beneath his hands.

Steve drew back, suddenly grabbing the back of Bucky’s neck and dragging him upright. “Walk.” He ordered shortly, and Bucky’s feet instinctively carried him forward. He let Steve direct him, but he knew exactly where they were going.

Steve pushed him into Bucky’s bedroom, manipulating him easily against his desk. Bucky’s ass nudged gently against the edge of the flat surface. The Brunet’s heart suddenly started in his chest as Steve surged forward, trapping him in place with jarring force. He watched as Bucky startle, watched him swallow as his heart forced its way into his throat. Steve leaned close, his eyes glinting with dominance. “Tell me where you keep your supplies.” Steve ordered.

Bucky felt a delightful little twist of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Steve played his part so perfectly, Bucky actually felt as though he were concealing something from him. Part of him wanted to resist, see if Steve would play the bad cop, but his body betrayed him. “Top dresser drawer.” He breathed numbly, his heart jarring against his ribcage. 

Steve’s piercing blue eyes bored into him, scouring him for any trace of a lie, before he turned quickly, leaving Bucky half slumped against the desk. He moved to the dresser, yanking the drawer open and riffling threw a few of Bucky’s articles of clothing, until he found what he was searching for. Withdrawing the bottle of lube, and a strip of condoms, Steve turned neatly, his eyes stealing back over to Bucky. He studied him; cold, and predatory, seeming to be calculating exactly how he wanted to take him.

Bucky swallowed hard, his stomach twisted into a knot of anticipation. Wrenched behind his back, his hands were beginning to tingle.  

The blond haired office suddenly crossed the rooms in a few long strides and grabbed Bucky’s shoulder. His fingers gripped into his flesh as he wrenched him around, forcing him face down on the desk. Bucky hit with a gasp, white spots bursting in front of his eyes as a little gasp of delight was coaxed from his lips.

_Holy fuck,_ Steve was going to take him right there on the desk.

Bucky could feel his cock straining against the confines of his jeans, already aching, leaking against his boxers. Steve pushed forward, forcing Bucky’s hips against the desk, putting a sudden painful pressure on his throbbing cock. Bucky cried out in alarm, his back arching, against Steve’s solid torso. 

"Hold still." Steve instructed firmly, and Bucky felt his hands slid around his front. The clinking of the buckle met his ears as Steve unfasten his belt, and in one, swift movement, yanked the younger man’s pants and brief down off his hips. 

The sudden drag against his sensitive cock drove Bucky nearly to tears. He bit back a cry, his teeth sinking into the flesh of his plush lower lip, drawing the blood near the surface, coloring it crimson. Steve was no longer touching him. The loss left Bucky feeling cold, and needy; but Steve didn’t tell him he was allowed to move, so he stayed bent over the desk. A clear pop met Bucky’s ears, and his muscles bunched in anticipation. Steve was uncapping the lube bottle. Any second now-

A painful _smack_ suddenly stung the inside of Bucky’s left thigh and short yelp of alarm tore from his throat. The buzz of pain dumped adrenaline and pleasure into his system, sending it coursing around his body, going to his head, making his mind go fuzzy. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Steve’s fingers, curled around the hilt of his nightstick. “Stand with your legs apart and don’t move.” He snapped, emphasizing the order with a second _smack_. With a swift flick, he brought the nightstick against the fleshy inside of the opposite thigh, stinging the tender skin, and flushing it red.

Bucky complied with almost embarrassing haste. His thighs stung from the short smacks, and the buzzing, tingling pleasure spread through his legs. With his cheek pressed into the grain of the desk, Bucky shifted his legs, standing with them braced about shoulders width apart.

Steve watched, his chest fluttering with excitement as Bucky moved responsively. He had to admit, he’d bee a little dubious about the notion of cuffing Bucky, and shoving him around, it had seem manipulative. But seeing Bucky now, legs spread, panting, his face flushed with absolute delight, Steve felt his doubts ease. He trusted Bucky. He trusted him to tell him if something he did was out of line, if he hurt him, or did anything to make him uncomfortable. He trusted Bucky to only take what he wanted. And when he was so beautifully spread out for him, how could Steve resist?

The officer’s warm, wet tongue slit out, moistening the curve of his mouth as he moved forward, tracing the blunt end of his nightstick across the reddened flesh on the insides of his lover’s thighs. Bucky shuddered at the touch, and Steve smirked, tracing the short club down the length of both thighs before flipping it easily behind him, clipping it into the resting place of his belt. Seizing the opened bottle of lube once more, Steve squeezed a generous amount onto his hand, slicking his fingers as he moved in again.

Bucky squirmed against the desk. Every nerve felt as though it were on fire. He needed to be touched. He needed Steve to touch him. If he didn’t have something of Steve’s inside him, he though he was going to fall apart. A second later, the back of his neck went warm as Steve bet over him again, suddenly pressing his index finger against the tight ring of Bucky’s entrance.

"You’re gonna be good and you’re gonna take me aren’t you?" Steve rumbled, pushing his finger forward, and Bucky stiffed a gasp, feeling the tip breach his entrance. He was tight. He could feel his muscles spasming in protest as Steve steadily worked his finger in deeper. "You’re gonna open up nice and pretty for me aren’t you Bucky?"

"Y- Yes sir-" Bucky choked, his voice quivering dangerously as Steve slowly drew his finger out, leaving just the tip inside him before pushing deep once more, working down past his second knuckle. Bucky felt a tug in the pit of his stomach, and his muscles tightening. A moan slipped from his flushed lips. " _Please_ -" He groaned, tugging his wrists against the cuffs.

A low snicker echoed in his ears, and Steve turned his mouth against the crook of Bucky’s neck, suddenly nipping the pale flesh. He pinched Bucky’s skin between his teeth before releasing suddenly, sucking over the mark hard enough to raise color to the surface. He wanted to leave marked all over his gorgeous body. He wanted him to remember this for _weeks_ , whether from the purple marks across his shoulders and neck, or the satisfying ache and burn every time he sat down.

Steve worked a second finger into Bucky’s tight ass; feeling the warm, tense friction as he loosened the ring of muscle. He was tensing around him, squeezing, and twitch, and _god_ Steve just wanted to see what Bucky’s amazing ass would feel like clenched around his tongue…but not just now. There would be time for that later. For the next few minute, Steve worked on coaxing Bucky’s body open. He knew Bucky wanted him to be rough with him, but he could do that just as well without Bucky being under prepared. So he pushed his two fingers in and out of Bucky’s entrance, ignoring his wreaked moans and pitiful whimpers as he begged him to just fuck him already. He added a third finger, experimentally spreading his digits, the movement accompanied by a heady moan from Bucky.  

Steve slowly withdrew, smirking as he took in the sight of Bucky’s asshole. It was flushed, and quivering with anticipation, the edges of the tender ring glistening with lube. Bucky was shivering; little whimpers of desperation falling heedlessly from his lips. ”Look at you…” Steve’s voice purred, the low, rumbling sound causing Bucky’s already aching cock to twitch with arousal. “So pretty…” His slicked fingers brushed softly over his prepared hole, feeling the muscle flutter beneath his touch. “You’re going to be real good for me aren’t you sweet heart?”

The sound of Steve’s zipper scraping down met his ears, fabric rustling quietly as he freed his cock from the confines of his dress slacks. Bucky’s anticipation peaked, his body coursing with energy. Suddenly, Bucky felt the rub of Steve’s slacks against his hips, his exposed cock resting heavily between his thighs. He could feel hot moisture leaking from his slit, smearing the reddened flesh of his thighs. They formed the picture of debauchery, Bucky, completely naked, handcuffed and bent over the desk with his ass prepped and fluttering under Steve’s touch; Steve, still fully dressed in his officer’s uniform, his fly open, the leaking head of his cock pressing against Bucky’s entrance.    

"You want me to take you like this doll?" Steve whispered, nudging the blunt tip of his cock against him, eliciting a soft gasp from his lover. "In uniform? Fucking you over your desk with your hands cuffed? Is that how you like it sweet boy?"

Bucky bit back a moan, his eyelids fluttering closed involuntarily. When he’d imagined this situation, imagined Steve cuffing him, fucking him over his desk, and calling him names, these weren’t the names he’d had in mind, but hearing them now, they were all he wanted. He wanted Steve to fuck him until he screamed. He wanted him to fuck him so hard he bruised, suck and bite rings all over his body. He wanted him to pleasure, and hurt him until all he could focus on was the sweet, affectionate names he whispered in his ear. 

Steve’s fingers suddenly twisted into his long chestnut locks, twisting, pulling a wave of pain across his scalp. “Answer me.” He demanded, and Bucky arched his back with a helpless cry. 

"Yes!" He gasped, the prickle of pain causing moisture to sting his eyes. "Please, Officer Rogers. M-Make me-"

His hand released Bucky’s hair, and for a brief moment, Bucky was once again left cold, and untouched. The dry, tearing noise of the condom packet sounded behind him, and he hesitated, parting his lips to speak. The words died in his throat as Steve abruptly pushed forward. His huge, mercilessly hard cock pushed into Bucky’s entrance, forcing the reluctant ring wide as he penetrated him. Bucky cried out, his fingers curling into fists behind him as he tried to find some support, something to hold to. One large, rough hand curled over Bucky’s shoulder, the other gripping bruises into the skin of his hips as he thrust forward, anchoring Bucky to the desk. 

Bucky’s ass was hot, and tight around Steve’s throbbing cock, but it stretched beautifully. Steve stared, mesmerized as his entrance gave, his cock forcing it wide as he slid into him. He slowed, just watching the stretch and pull as he eased deeper, captivated by how beautiful Bucky’s body looked when it was flushed and red, seating his cock deeply inside of it. Bucky’s whine of impatience snapped him back to reality. His grip tightened on the other man’s body, and he suddenly thrust forward, forcing the whole of his length into his body. Steve set his pace, drawing out before slamming his cock back into him, Bucky twisting, and squirming helplessly beneath him as absolutely wrecked sobs of pleasure escaped his lips. 

The pace was ruthless, relentless, and Bucky found himself biting his lip so hard he nearly drew blood in an effort to keep from outright screaming. His head was spinning with pleasure, his senses going foggy as Steve fucked him over the desk. The sensations were overwhelming. A sob tore from his lips as Steve snapped his hips forward, sheathing himself completely inside him. He felt hot, and full. He felt completely dominated, and completely safe. 

Steve shifted his angle, pressing Bucky harder against the desk, forcing him nearly onto his toes. A sharp thrust had Bucky suddenly arching off the desk, and Steve smirked, feeling his cock stimulating his sensitive prostate. He loved the noises Bucky made when he fucked his sweet spot. He loved the way he moan, and screamed if he hit it just right. The blond haired officer slid out, before slamming in again, increasing his pace as he hit Bucky’s prostate repeatedly.

A scream was wrenched from Bucky’s raw throat, his nerves searing with pain and pleasure as Steve hit his prostate. The ache in his cock was growing unbearable. Steve hadn’t touched him once, and Bucky got the distinct impression that that’s exactly how he wanted it. The brunet moan weakly, all capacity for speech robbed from him by the sensation of Steve filling him up, stretching him open and claiming him completely. He shifted his hips with a whine, rutting helplessly against the desk, desperate for anything to stimulate his sensitive cock. 

Steve hand slid from his hip, and a second later, the sharp _smack_ of his nightstick struck against the outside of his thigh. Bucky started in alarm, yelping as Steve gave a particularly rough thrust. “I didn’t say you were allowed to do that.” Steve hissed shortly, jamming forward into him as his thrust coaxed a cry from Bucky’s swollen lips. “Be a good boy and hold still. Don’t make me hit you again.” 

Bucky whined in response, the momentary relief brought by the friction against the desk already fading back to throbbing pain. He was too close. His climax was teetering on the edge by he didn’t know if he was allowed. Bucky had given himself over to Steve’s complete control, and if Steve said he wasn’t allowed to come, Bucky would obey.

"Please-" Bucky managed, his voice breaking as Steve thrust against his sweet spot. "St- O-Officer, I need to- I’m gonna-"

"Do you want to come precious?" He murmured, his breath hot and warm across his ear as he fucked him viciously over the desk. 

"Sir- Sir please, I need to, I-"

"Hold on just a minute more darling…" Steve purred in his ear, kissing his neck tenderly before abruptly sinking his teeth into the fragile skin. He bit down, drawing a flush of color to the surface, leaving a brutally obvious ring of teeth marks on the side of his neck. He maintained the pressure until Bucky whined, twitching under him before he eased off. "I’ll tell you when…" He assured him. "Be patient."

Bucky sobbed softly, choking back the noise as he tried to reign himself back. He had to hold on, Steve would take good care of him. 

Steve knew he couldn’t wait much longer either. He could feel his orgasm building, coming to the cusp as he snapped his hips forward, his fingers gripping bruises in Bucky’s shoulder and hips as he forced into him. He could feel Bucky falling apart under his hands, shaking, and screaming with every rough thrust, his body wrecked and nearly over stimulated. He could see the flushed head of his cock, leaking profusely as he tried to hold himself together for a few more thrusts. He lay over the desk, tears running into his hairline, his jaw slack with pleasure as Steve fucked him. And just then, screaming, and handcuffed, with Steve’s cock buried in his ass, he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

"Now-" Steve gasped, feeling Bucky’s body arch up off the desk, a wrecked sob of relief tearing from his throat as he came, streaking the front of the desk, thick drops splattering the carpet. His body spasmed, tightening around Steve’s cock and dragging him over the edge. He doubled over, his sweaty forehead pressed roughly between Bucky’s shoulder blades, his air leaving him in a gasp. Steve came inside Bucky’s body, filling the condom as he slumped over him, pressing him against the hard, unforgiving surface. Pleasure coursed through his system, numbing his mind, uncoiling the tension in the pit of his stomach.

Sweat damped the front of Steve’s uniform, his chest heaving as he slumped over Bucky’s back, the other man gasping, and trembling beneath him. With numb fingers, Steve managed to fumble into his pocket, drawing out the key to the cuffs. Bucky wrist were flushed red, the skin chafed, and tender, but Steve didn’t see any breaks in the skin. He may have a little bruising, but he hadn’t injured him. Drawing his softening cock out of Bucky’s ravaged hole, Steve pushing himself up on shaking arms, working the delicate key into the lock, and with a tiny click, released Bucky’s hands. 

"Come here…" Steve whispered, discarding the condom before gently easing Bucky up off the desk. The younger man slumped heavily against him, his legs shaking from holding his weight nearly on his toes for so long. Steve gathered Bucky against him, stumbling the few steps to Bucky’s unmade bed before laying him down.

He sunk down with a gasp, his eyelids fluttering drunkenly, as a little clarity crept back into his gaze. "Steve…" He breathed reverently. His lips were swollen, flushed blood red and chapped from gnawing at them.

Steve bent, his hands braced on the edge if the bed for support as he tenderly touched his mouth to Bucky’s. “Hey…” He whispered, granting him a warm smile. Steve shifted, his legs growing more certain under him as he lifted a hand from the mattress, smoothing it through Bucky’s sweaty hair. “Hey…you did _so_ good Bucky…” He breathed, stooped over the bed to kiss him, unable to get enough of the warmth of his mouth against his.

"Gid’down here…" Bucky slurred against Steve’s lips, his eyes half closed, limp with pleasure and exhaustion. "And take yer fucking clothes off…"

His words coaxed a small smile from Steve as he glance down at himself. His uniform was thoroughly rumpled and soaked with sweat. The precum that had damped the front of his boxers and slacks had gone uncomfortably cold. It would be a welcomed relief to be rid of them. Steve undressed with little ceremony, stripping his shirt off and tossing it to the floor, dropping his slacks and boxers before sinking down next to him. The mattress dipped beneath him, cushioning him in warmth, as he lay back, exhausted and spent, his body still buzzing from the aftershock of his orgasm.

The moment Steve body came to rest, heavy, and warm, beside him, Bucky shifted. He moved with a soft moan, his body aching delightfully, his ass twitching and throbbing from the rough intrusion. Bucky lifted himself painfully, easing down with a sigh, his legs straddling Steve’s thighs as he sunk against his chest.

Bucky’s weight settled overtop of Steve, and the older man felt a rush of affection for the exhausted, sweaty brunet draped overtop of him. He exhaled shakily, hands coming to rest over the smooth curve of Bucky’s ass. “Okay?” He murmured softly, shifting his head to nuzzle lazily at Bucky’s temple.

"Sore…" Bucky murmured thickly, and Steve’s touch stilled, a soft sound of apology slipping from his parted lips. Before he could speak, Bucky shifted, giving his earlobe a soft nip. "Never said I didn’t like it Rogers." He scoffed shortly, abruptly cutting off the string of worried words and apologies trembling on the tip of Steve’s tongue.

At the reassurance, Steve’s body went relaxed with relief, his eyes closing. “Good…” He whispered, his skin tingling as Bucky began to suck gently at his neck. “I’d be a shit partner if I hurt you while trying to make up for hu- hurting-” Steve voice wobbled traitorously as Bucky kissed down his neck, his mouth working with hot pressure against all the sensitive places on his throat. Steve swallowed hard, his head swimming with pleasure as he tried to focus enough to string together a proper sentence. “Hurting…you…” He managed raggedly.

"Just shut up Steve…" Bucky murmured, and Steve complied willingly his cognitive thinking slipping away from him as Bucky’s fingers splayed over his hips. The younger man’s mouth worked down his collar, slowly kissing trails down his pecks while his fingers stroked, distractingly light, over his hips and thighs.

"Bucky…" Steve whispered helplessly, his head spinning as Bucky sealed his mouth over his right nipple, sucking and worrying the flesh into a stiff peek. He laved his tongue over the hardened nub, his inked fingers sliding up to play over the left nipple, teasing it erect. Steve moan, already half hard as Bucky sucked, and nibbled, and pinched at his nipples, the stimulation of the sensitive skin going straight to his cock.

Bucky smirked sleepily, his eyes hooded as he eased off, giving the stiff, pink nub a little flick with his tongue before sliding lower. His sinfully red mouth worked over Steve’s abs, sucking at the muscle, laving his tongue over the tight core of his body. He nuzzled over the wiry, dirty blond hair at the base of Steve’s cock, his breath warming his skin as he lifted his eyes too him, wide eyed, and apparently innocent.

"Fuck-" Steve gasped, his stomach swooping at the sight of Bucky staring up at his, mouth just inches from his cock. _Fuck_. His mouth should be illegal…but right now, all Steve wanted was to have his pretty, blood red lips wrapped around his cock.

At the sight of Steve’s obvious arousal, Bucky eased himself lower, kneeling between Steve’s parted legs, mouth hovering just over his cock. His tongue slid distractingly over his lower lip, wetting his mouth, his saliva making his lips glossy. Bucky’s breath was hot against his skin, and he felt Steve squirm, a needy little whine falling unbidden for his lips. Finally, Bucky caved, and gave Steve what he wanted.

He leaned in, closing his mouth over the flushed head of Steve’s cock, feeling the weight of it on his tongue. Bucky sighed in pleasure, his mouth stretched around Steve’s cock, the taste heavy, and musky. He slid lower, taking more of the shaft in his mouth, teasing his tongue along the underside.

Steve head lolled back weakly and he moan, eyelids fluttering closed. He couldn’t focus; his mind was going fuzzy, white with static. Bucky’s mouth felt like heaven, hot, and wet, his tongue tracing the thick vein running up the underside of his cock. The pressure tugged and pulled at him, lust coiling in the pit of his stomach as Bucky hollowed out his cheeks, sucking hungrily, pleasuring him with his mouth and tongue.

His breath was coming in shaky gasps, and Steve squeezed his eyes tighter closed, his lips trying to form words. “B- Bucky-” he stammered, his cheeks flushing a delicate pink.

And then suddenly, the heat was gone.

An embarrassing moan slipped from Steve’s lips as Bucky pulled off without warning, leaving him wet, and cold, his now fully hard cock throbbing. The mattress creaked as Bucky lifted his weight away, and Steve blinked blearily, his numb mind trying to process what was happening. He sat forward, his body aching from the loss. “Bucky…” He whispered needily, trying to summon anything other than his name to say, but his mind was scrambled, numb with pleasure and aching from the loss.

"Hey, relax," Bucky murmured, back at his side a moment later, the small square condom packet in his hand. "Thought y’might want this, just lay back."

Steve complied, and as Bucky straddled his body once more the ache in his bones eased. He needed him here, he needed him to touch him, to make sure this was still real.

Eyes lowered, Bucky fussed with the packet, tearing it open with his teeth. He discarded the package, and Steve’s cock jumped at the contact as he rolled the condom down along his shaft. “Now just lay back okay?” Bucky drawled, easing forward. “It’s _my_ turn to be in charge…”

Bucky rolled his hips forward skillfully, the weeping head of his cock lifted against his stomach, leaking milky fluid against his abs. Slowly, he lined himself up, and began to gently push himself down onto Steve’s cock. He drew a gasp, eyes flickering closed. Even with his hole still relaxed, and slicked from earlier, the drag of the rubber against the raw inside of his ass sent a delightful burn of friction through him. He froze, hands planted on Steve’s heaving chest as he adjusted to the size of Steve’s cock again. Tentatively, he began moving again, easing down in tiny increment, lifting and pushing as he worked Steve into him a tiny amount at a time.

It was maddening. Steve moan as Bucky worked his cock deeper into his body, his eyes squeezed closed, face drawn with concentration as he focused on taking him as deeply as he could.

Finally, Steve’s cock was seated completely inside Bucky’s body, and he younger man released a breath of tension. He shifted, paused, and then began slowly rolling his hips. The movement tore a groan of helpless arousal from Steve’s lips and his hands found their way instinctively to Bucky’s waist. His muscles shifted powerfully beneath the skin, rolling and tensing as he shifted around Steve in sinfully sinuous movements.

Bucky bit his lip delicately; his eyelids lightly closed as soft, sweet noises of pleasure fell from his mouth. He gasped, sighing quietly, as he rode Steve, one hand finding it’s way to the wide palm resting on his waist. He was sinfully gorgeous, his face slack with pleasure, sweaty hair feathering his jawline as his long dark lashes splayed over his cheekbones. His muscles coiled and tensed beautifully, his body a work of art in the light of the dimly lit bedroom.

Steve whimpered, staring up at Bucky, fixated by the stunning man above him. He lifted his hips to meet him, feeling his cock sheathed completely in the other man’s hot, velvety insides. “Bucky…” He whispered reverently, the younger man’s eyes dropping down to his. He looked so sweet, so shy, his hands resting over Steve’s, biting so tenderly at his plush lower lip as he stared down at him. He looked like a virgin, doe-eyed, and innocent; his cheeks flushed a delicate pink.

"Oh _Bucky_ …" He murmured. "You’re beautiful…you’re _beautiful_ , you’re so- you’re _so_ gorgeous Bucky, _god_ -" Steve gasped, knowing he was babbling, but he couldn’t help himself. Bucky didn’t seem to mind either. It may have just been a part of the appearance, but Steve could have sworn Bucky flushed a little deeper at his praise, a shy smile touching his soft lips.

Steve came through a hazy of pleasure, his body feeling warm, and fuzzy, his mind distant. He hardly realized that Bucky had climaxed as well, until he noticed the other man’s come cooling on his chest, and took in the sight of his flushed face.

Bucky was panting, his legs quivering as he stared down at Steve, utterly spent. “Fuck…” He whispered helplessly, trembling as he eased himself slowly off of Steve’s cock. Bucky’s expression was touched with shock, a look bordering on reverence etched on his features, because this had been different. Before, it had been a trust exercise, a game, wherein they were more character then themselves. But this had been different, this had been all them, raw, open, and honest. And for a moment, Bucky let Steve see his desperation, and complete vulnerability. He looked shaky, and stunned, blindsided but how Steve had undone him, and stripped away all his layers to expose his fragile core.

Slowly, with gentle fingers, Steve cupped Bucky’s stunned face in his palms, gently brushing his thumbs over his cheekbones. Bucky weakened, his eyelids fluttering as he craned into the touch. “Steve…” He whispered raggedly, feeling exposed, and vulnerable.

The older man drew him down slowly, in one, smooth movement, Rolling over onto his side to cradle Bucky against his broad chest. “Shhhh…” He soothed, carding his fingers through his sweaty hair. “It’s okay…it’s okay, I’ve got you Bucky, you’re mine…you’re mine…I’ve got you…” The words of gentle assurance washed over Bucky, cushioning him in warmth, and belonging. “I’ve got you…” He whispered tenderly. “I’m not gonna let go of you…you’re mine…you’re mine sweetheart…”

Bucky curled desperately into the warmth if Steve’s embraced, clinging to him, his throat suddenly tight as his lover whispered soothing words of reassurance in his ears. He belonged here. He was Steve’s. He was Steve’s, and it was the best feeling in the world.

The two men lay in the tangle of bedding and blankets, their limbs entwined together. Steve’s hands gently teased the knots from Bucky’s hair, his voice providing a soothing backdrop as Bucky’s eyes grew heavy. His exhaustion was getting the better of him, but a coil of unease still stirred restlessly in the pit of his stomach.

"Don’t leave…" Bucky murmured, his breath warm against Steve’s chest as he soaked in his deep, musky scent, and reveled in the sensation of his strong arms around him. He shifted, clinging to his lover as he folded him tighter in against him. 

Steve hushed Bucky softly, his hand sliding absently from his hair, down to the back of his neck. He drew him closer, tucking Bucky in against his broad chest and tracing his fingertips down the gorgeous curve of his spine. “I wont…” He murmured tenderly, tipping down his chin to press a gently kiss to the top of his sweaty hair. “I’m staying right here…I won’t leave you…I’m not gonna leave you ever again…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Sorry this took so long guys, I was /extremely/ nervous about this chapter, and I really hope you like it. Here's crossing my fingers that this lived up to expectations. What do you think?


	10. At Last

Bucky chest rose and fell in a deep, easy rhythm as he lay in the sun-soaked blankets. He could feel himself slowly drifting up from sleep, his mind reawakening to the sound of the soft wind outside his bedroom window. He felt warm, and peaceful. Bucky had slept soundly, his body, exhausted, and spent, his mind comforted by Steve’s heavy weight on the bed beside him. He couldn’t remember feeling so refreshed. A shallow sigh escaped the brunet’s lips, and he blinked his eyes open, staring blearily at the cream toned paint of the wall. The blankets were tangled around his naked body, and the sun spilled pools of warm light across his skin. ”Morning Steve…” Bucky whispered, shifting onto his back and dropping his head to the side.

Steve side of the bed was empty. 

Bucky lurched upright, the feeling warm, sleepy content suddenly searing away, a sickening fear curdling in the pit of his stomach. He reached over, frantically pressing his hand to the slight hollow in the mattress where Steve’s body had lain next to his all night, desperate to feel some warmth. He was desperate to let himself believe he’d just slipped to the bathroom, that he’d just decided to shower, the alternative was too painful; that he’d decided He didn’t want Bucky after all. The mattress had long since grown cold.

“Steve?” Bucky breathed sickly, his stomach suddenly twisting into a cold knot of fear. His hand pressed into the cold mattress, feeling the outline of where he’d last seen him. He’d lain there, staring at him, his lips pulled into a tiny smile as he’d stroked his hair and body, as he’d touched tender kisses to his neck and told him how good he was. He wouldn’t have left… _Steve wouldn’t have just left him again_ …

The though shook Bucky to his core. He lurched into action, scrambling out of bed, his left foot hooking into the comforter. Bucky stumbled, toppling to the floor with a thump. He caught himself on his elbows, the skin brush burned from the rough impact, but he barely registered the sting. Bucky scrambled to his feet, tripping around to the other side of the bed where Steve had discarded his dirty, rumpled clothing the night before. He drew to an abrupt stop, staring sickly down at the floor. The uniform was gone. 

Bucky’s heart turned to lead in his chest. He felt ill, doubt thrashing in poisonous coils in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to believe it, he didn’t want to believe that Steve would have walked out on him again, that he would have convinced Bucky to forgive him, only to use him again and slip out in the early hours of the morning. He wanted to believe it hadn’t been a lie, but the bed was cold, and Steve’s clothing was gone.

Fear suddenly spurred Bucky into action. He turned, dragging open one of the dresser drawers and yanking out a pair of boxers. He struggled them on over his hips, unable to think clearly enough to clothe himself any more than that. Briefly, out of the corner of his eye, Bucky caught sight of himself in the mirror. His hair was rumpled into unkempt waves and peeks from where Steve had tugged his fingers through it when it was still damp with sweat. Hickeys bloomed in dark blues and purples across his throat and down his shoulder, disappearing down his spine. His wrists were chaffed red, and bruises dotted his hips, mimicking the spread of Steve’s fingers. For a moment, the image stopped him cold. The evidence of the night they’d spent together was imprinted all over his body…It couldn’t have all been a lie…But then, the ring of teeth marks Steve had left on his shoulder the first time slammed into him as a brutal reminder _. It very well could be._

Turning, Bucky stumbled from the room, his body still numb from sleep, his heart sick with fear. The stairs thumped and groaned beneath his feet as he tripped down them, barely keeping himself upright, his head spinning. “Steve?” He called desperately, his voice cracking as he careened around the corner, stumbling into the doorway to the kitchen.

Steve stood by the oven, a griddle laid across the stovetop. He was dress in only his fitted black boxers, the stretched material accenting the curve of his ass and the cords of muscle along his toned thighs. He was barefoot, and bare chested, a hot mitt concealing his left hand as he held to the edge of the steaming griddle, flipping a stack of golden brown pancakes onto the top of a plate. His hair was mussed, and unkempt, the soft morning light bathing him in a warm glow.

At the sound of Bucky’s voice, the older man turned, quickly discarding the mitt. “Morning Bucky.” He greeted with a tender smile. “I threw my uniform in your washing machine, hope you don’t mind. It’d be a little uncomfortable having to explain those stains to my superiors.” Stepping over, Steve leaned in, cupping his hand along his jaw and pressing a soft kiss to the other man’s stunned lips. He held it for a moment, before pulling back with a tiny smile, his gorgeous eyelashes feathering his cheekbones. He glanced up, his lips parted to speak when he abruptly stopped, drinking in the shocked expression written across his lover’s features. “Bucky?” He asked, his tone edged with uncertainty.

Bucky blinked rapidly, drawing back a step. “You-” He started uncertainly, his gaze stealing up to Steve’s before dropping away again. “I…I thought you’d left…”

Steve froze, his expression faltering as he started at his companion. He looked nervous, and embarrassed, but it was more then that. The sickened hurt, and betrayal was still fading from his eyes, Steve could still see its echo seared across his face. The expression hit him like a punch to the chest, and guilt suddenly stirred hot in the pit of his stomach. Bucky had thought Steve had abandoned him, again, only this time, rather than shove him out, he’d used him, and disappeared, slipping away like a malicious ghost.

" _No_ …" He said softly, moving forward, his bare chest nudging against Bucky’s as he drew him closer. "No, Bucky…I’m not running out you…" Steve murmured, taking his chin in one hand, his thumb soothing along his jawline. Bucky leaned into the touch, soaking it in hungrily as his doubts slowly faded. Steve shifted, sliding his hand to the back of Bucky’s neck as he free arm wound around his waist, drawing him, full-body, against him. He was warm, and solid to the touch. 

Bucky curled in closer, hesitantly sliding his arms around Steve, his finger tips digging into the muscles of his back. He felt real. Bucky swallowed back the knot in his throat, the fear, and hurt giving way to embarrassment, and shame. Steve must hate that he had so little faith in him. When it all sunk it, he was going to be angry that Bucky was so quick to think he’d abandoned him… The brunet swallowed back the knotting his throat, soaking up the affection for as long as it was his.

Steve’s breath warmed his skin, as he pressed closer, tucking his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck. The blond officer’s thumb rubbed tiny circles along the back of his neck, his other arm tightening around his waist. He held Bucky close, cradling the other man in his arms, doing everything in his power to sooth away his doubts. Bucky was head shy now, Steve knew. He’d done his part to make him that way. The best he could do now, was to do everything in his power to be worth what little trust Bucky had left to place in him. He wanted to be worth that. He wanted to foster the tiny spark of trust that Bucky still held inside him. He wanted to see it grow, and spread, and he wanted to be worth every bit of it.

"I’m sorry…" Bucky voice was low, and raspy, scraping from his raw throat as he clung to Steve’s broad chest.

Steve drew back, catching Bucky’s arms in his warm, wide palms as he ducked to look him in the eyes. “For what?” He asked softly, sliding a hand from his inked left bicep to cradle his jawline.

Bucky shied cautiously from the touch, turning his head away in shame. “I was real fucking quick to think you’d ditched me…” He murmured, a flush creeping up his neck to color his cheeks. “Second I saw the bed empty, I was back to thinkin’ you’d used me again…”

" _Bucky_ -" The name fell from Steve’s lips, hushed, and sympathetic, and in one, swift movement, Steve had drawn the younger man against him in a crushing hug. He pressed his face into the side of his neck, arms wrapped, tight, and strong around his body. "No…Bucky don’t apologize…" He whispered, his fingers coming up to tangle at in the knot of chestnut hair at the base of Bucky’s neck. "Don’t apologize…it’s my fault…its my fault Buck…I know you’re skittish…I’m sorry…I’m sorry I made you that way…"

Steve breath was hot against Bucky’s skin, his arms warm, and stabilizing around him. Bucky craned into the touch, his fingers curling into fists against Steve’s lower back. He ached for Steve’s touch. Even after spending the night with him, even after falling asleep with his arms wrapped around his body, Bucky hadn’t had enough to make up for the time they were apart. Steve’s touch felt like heaven, his arms warm, and safe, like home.

"I’m here Buck…" Steve murmured, turning his head in to press a tender kiss to the side of his neck. "I’m sorry…I’m sorry I scared you…I’m here, I’ve got ya…" Steve left a gentle trail of kisses up the brunet’s neck, slowly easing his hands up to cup his face. "I’ve got you," he whispered, nuzzling against his face. "I’ve got you, I love you…"

As Steve pressed a warm, affectionate kiss to the swell of his lips, Bucky felt his heart flutter in his chest, his stomach twisting restlessly. He’d never heard those words from Steve. He’d never thought he’d be worth them. In an instant, Bucky surged forward, twisting his arms around his neck and returning the kiss with passion.

Steve startled, taken aback by Bucky’s enthusiasm, but quickly recovered. He grabbed Bucky’s waist, gripping into the tender skin as he drug him against him, lifting his feet just barely off the floor. The other man rested against him, arms tangled around his neck, mouth pressed, hot and full against his own. Steve shifted, his lips fitting perfectly into the warm curve of Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky tipped his chin down, their mouths parting just enough for him to close his lips over Steve’s lower lip.

Steve matched the kiss without complaint, slowly easing Bucky’s bare feet back into the cool kitchen tile. Reluctantly, he drew back, touching a tiny little brush to the corner of his mouth before pulling away completely. “There…” He whispered, his words hushed, and tender as his fingers traced light patterns along his spine. “There, Bucky…I’ve got you…”

"Hey-" Bucky said shortly, suddenly lifting his gaze up to him, his eyes wide as he gripped his waist urgently. "Wait, I-"

"What is it?" Steve asked, his hands stilling on his body, hesitant, not sure if he should be pulling away or not.

But Bucky’s hands gripped firm at his waist, pulling him against him urgently. “I-” He stammered, his cheeks taking on a darkened flush. “I- I love you too…” The words fell from Bucky’s lips in a jumbled, anxious rush, the coloring in his cheeks deepening to crimson as he ducked his head away nervously. He looked jumpy, and uneasy, and it was no wonder. The last time he’d told Steve he loved him, he’d gotten his heart broken. 

Steve exhaled softly, and drew Bucky into a tender kiss. He captured the other man’s mouth against his own, warm, and full, trying to sooth away his fears and apprehensions. His hands moved up, gently carding through his soft brown hair as he shifted his head slightly, Bucky turning to accommodate the kiss. He held him for some time, kissing him tenderly, easing away the anxious apprehension that coiled in his body.

Slowly, Steve drew back, a smile lingering on his lips as he nuzzled softly against Bucky’s face. “I like the way that sounds…” He murmured, tugging a tangle free from his soft brown lock. ” ‘Specially when its you sayin’ it…” He lifted a hand to the gentle curve of Bucky’s neck, feeling his pulse flutter under his touch.

"Y’mean that?" Bucky asked, his tone raspy. 

"Every word." Steve drew back with a tiny smile. Reaching up, he lightly cuffed Bucky’s cheek with the back of his knuckled before turning back towards the griddle. "Now come on, have some breakfast."

Bucky chuckled at the tender gesture of affection, his chest warming as his doubts and anxieties slipped away. “You cook too? What are you, _perfect_?” He jabbed lightly; strolling over and resting his weight back against the kitchen table.

Steve managed a little snort, tending to the last few pancakes before clicking off the burner. “ _Perfect_?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder at the dark hair man. “That’s even in your vocabulary for me anymore?”

Bucky suddenly moved forward, sliding easily away from the table and slipping up behind him. His arms snuck around the older man’s waist, and he turned his face into the crook of his neck, giving him a playful bite. “Shudd’up…” He murmured, pressing a quick kiss over the flush he’d draw to the surface of his skin. “Yer just fishin’ for compliments.”

Shifting the plate of pancakes expertly on the tips of his fingers, Steve turned in the embrace, wrapping an arm snuggly around Bucky’s shoulders. “Don’t I deserve em’?” Steve teased lightly, tearing a thin strip off of the top pancake and tucking it into Bucky’s cheek.

The other man blinked in surprise, shifting the morsel around in his mouth before chewing. “Not a chance.” He mumbled around the mouthful, shooting him a playful glare. “You’re still a jerk with a shit-ton of making up to do.” 

Steve’s kiss took Bucky’s by surprise. In one, easy movement, the blond haired officer, slid the plate of breakfast to the counter, and used his now free hand to grab Bucky’s chin, drawing his mouth fully against his own.

Bucky startled, jumping at the contact before going limp in Steve’s arms. He sunk into the kiss, his mouth warm, and firm against his own. Loving. Gentle. His hands were soft on his bare skin, tracing patterns down his back and between his shoulder blades. His wandering hands soothed away the traces of fear, and hurt left behind from the trials they’d struggled through. His mouth, warm, and wet against his own, pressed reminders of his love with every tender shift and touch of his lips and tongue.

Steve pulled back slowly, affectionate brushing his flushed lips against Bucky’s as the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. “What that a good start?” He asked, his breath warm, intimate in the centimeters between their parted lips. 

A moan slipped from Bucky’s lips and he craned closer, Steve’s open mouth ghosting over his, gentle, and reassuring. “S’perfect….” He slurred, drunk on the affection Steve submersed him in so freely.

The taller man smiled against his lover’s lips, easing Bucky around in a gentle turn, until the brunets back rested lightly against the counter. “Pancakes are gonna get cold…” He whispered, distracted as Bucky leaned forward, aching for the sensation of his mouth against his. 

"Cold pancakes are my favorite…" Bucky breathed, pulling Steve down into a messy kiss.

Steve hummed in pleasure, pressing forward, as his easing his hips against Bucky’s. “Liar-” He accused, the word muffled between kisses as he pressed forward, his tongue teasing at the seam of Bucky’s lips.

"Yeah fine-" Bucky conceded, dragging him closer. "I lied, whad’re y’gonna do? Arrest me?"

Steve paused a moment, a smirk flitting across his features and he suddenly drew Bucky’s face forward, into a deep, passionate kiss. His hands captured his jawline, holding him close to him, feeling his heartbeat, like the fluttering of a bird, against his bare chest. He drank in the sensation of Bucky’s hands resting on the small of his back, of his hot, wet tongue brushing tantalizingly across his tongue and teeth. He soaked in the knowledge that Bucky was his, and if he treated him with care, he never had to loose him again. Bucky was his…He was his…and Steve was never letting go of him again.

“That could be arranged…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, we've come to the end of this one. Thanks for sticking with me. <3


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